


Crescendo

by Saroku



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Orchestra, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5354954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saroku/pseuds/Saroku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was one thing Sorey loved more than history, it was the sound of a swelling orchestra, each part coming together to work in perfect harmony. Even the dullest of days seemed to soar as he sat among it all, the lilting melodies filling his ears, and heart, with hope. High school/orchestra AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time doing a multi-chapter fic, so I'm a little nervous... But a big thank you to those who helped me out! I'm not sure how often updates will be, and it might be a little short, but I'm working on it.
> 
> Since it's a modern AU, I've adapted what I could from the game. No real spoilers this early on. I also just had band at my school, no orchestra, but I modeled things after what it was like for me.
> 
> At any rate, enjoy!

Mikleo's notes rang out low and warm, in rich, earthy tones that helped ground the trills of Sorey's flute, quietly supporting him as Mikleo always did. So entranced he became that Sorey almost lost track of his place, but having practiced this piece dozens of times, Sorey simply followed both memory and melody, catching up in no time. Their notes melded together from one passage to the next in harmony, two hearts beating as one, if only for a short span of time. The final notes swelled before slowly diminishing to nothing, and goosebumps prickled Sorey's skin in the silence that followed. It was unique sort of sensation that he almost enjoyed.

“That went pretty well,” Mikleo said as he relaxed in his chair.

Sorey nodded. “Let's just hope those judges think so.”

Less than a month remained until the annual solo and ensemble contest, in which musicians from surrounding schools competed with a solo piece or in small groups. There was no competition among themselves; everyone simply competed for a ranking, for a chance to prove their abilities to a judge. Considering this would be their last chance at it, Sorey had devoted much of his free time to perfecting their duet. And a unique one, at that, of cello and flute.

“Glad I didn't get sick again this year.” Sorey rubbed the back of his head with a laugh. The previous year they had registered as well, but due to illness overtaking Sorey, they had no choice but to withdraw. But not this time, he'd make sure of it.

“But you might if you keep pushing yourself so hard.”

“I... That's true. Don't worry, I'm taking care of myself.”

“You better be.” Mikleo flashed him a grin before setting his cello in its case. “We should end for today, though. It's getting late.”

“Oh, shoot, you're right.”

Sorey slipped his phone from his pocket. Already four-thirty, as well as a message from Rose. She had stayed behind as well to study math, while Alisha practiced her own solo piece on violin. _Alisha can give me a ride_ , she said. _You two have fun_. Rose's relationship with her was so confusing—one minute they were wrapped up in an argument, the next hanging onto each other like best friends. Hot and cold, it seemed like.

“What's up?” Mikleo asked, his cello already tucked away.

“Oh, nothing. Alisha's taking Rose home. Guess she's still practicing.”

“I see. She's even more diligent than you, Sorey. And that's saying something.”

Now that they had finished practicing, Sorey could hear the faint rise and fall of a violin's timbre the room over. Even now, a month before the contest, she sounded perfect with each note. Mikleo plodded ahead of him with his hefty case, and Sorey had to admit it was a comedic sight to watch someone as small as him lug that thing around. Since he couldn't exactly carry the thing home, after school was the only chance they really had to practice. Sorey didn't mind, though; it gave him a chance to unwind and think about something other than homework, for once.

Sorey shook his head and returned to the present, gathering his music and flute before following Mikleo back to the storage room. With their instruments tucked away they departed the school. Mid-winter air draped itself over them, the exposed skin of Sorey's cheeks stinging from the cold. With his coat wrapped tightly around him, Sorey hurried to the car with Mikleo, seeking the warmth and shelter it would provide.

* * *

The saving grace to waking up early each day was found in professor Sergei Strelka's history class. Even on the most dismal of mornings, when Sorey found himself dreading the sound of his alarm clock, he pulled himself out of bed for the sake of history. It was his dream, after all, to someday see relics he'd learned about with his own eyes. Not to mention his professor had a way of making the subject sparkle even more so. Even Rose, who never expressed much of a care for the topic, seemed to perk up as the class went along.

“Oh, boy,” Rose said with a stretch after class, “if I'm not careful I'll actually start caring about this stuff.”

“Really? You don't think it's fascinating?” Sorey tidied up his notes before setting it all in his bag. “There's so many cool places and artifacts. Man, what I wouldn't give to see some of those things.”

“Not my thing. His enthusiasm just rubs off on me, I guess.”

“She doesn't have the patience for it,” Mikleo added.

“Hey, that's not true! It's just boring with a capital B.” Rose slung her bag across her shoulder and trailed behind them to the door.

“Give it a chance. You'll see.”

“Thanks, but I've got my eyes set on other things. See ya in band, nerds.”

They nodded farewell for now. As they strolled down the hall to their locker they discussed all they had learned today, excited to be starting a section on music and fine arts in history, however short it proved to be. Any chance Sorey had to combine his two passions, he would take. It was too bad Alisha couldn't be in the same class—he would love to get all her opinions on things, as well. At their locker they exchanged one textbook for another. Since teachers didn't care whether they shared a locker or kept their own, they consolidated their things into one. At times Mikleo would nitpick his lack of cleanliness—okay, so maybe he had a few candy wrappers here and there—but the convenience of sharing supplies, like books, was worth Mikleo’s tidying habits.

Classes ran smoothly for the rest of the morning, and soon, the highlight of the day crested over the horizon. Aside from history class, there was nowhere Sorey felt more at home than orchestra. The hum of strings and brass and woodwinds as they tuned, finally getting into the actual music; all of it fell perfectly into place, and Sorey felt like he could soar. He met the conductor’s smile as he took a seat with flute in hand, her eyes shining with excitement as tones and music began to swell. Most of the other students had already assembled, and Sorey gave her a sheepish grin in return.

“Looks like being early isn’t exactly your forte,” she teased, voice elevated slightly to be heard over the tuning.

Sorey couldn’t help laughing at that one; Lailah had a knack for pulling puns out of thin air. It was a unique trait of hers, helping to breathe life and laughter into any situation, even on those days when nothing seemed to be going right. Any worries he held were soon assuaged by the sound of music filling his ears. The low, supporting drone of cellos and horns, the lilting of violins as they practically sang in unison, even the brassy blare of trumpets. Each part came together in a harmony unlike anything else. For just a few moments Sorey let his eyes fall closed as he played notes practiced so many times, the music wrapping itself around him like a warm blanket on a winter night.

Each day continued on the same as the last, engaging if not dull at times. Sorey found himself eager to break free of high school and finally go on to college—to learn and research what he wanted, and not overload his mind with subjects he barely cared about. He couldn't wait for the days of learning history, seeing artifacts, or perhaps, even traveling the world to unearth ancient relics. Though it would be a long journey his heart was in it all the way. And even though Mikleo shared his love of history, his passion for baking won out, and Sorey knew it would inevitably lead them down differing paths. But they'd find a way to stick together, like they always had. For now, it was best to relish the time they had together, to trace the pattern of Mikleo's face, his hands, everything onto his heart.

* * *

“Having trouble with that part again?” Mikleo leaned forward on his chair, resting the bow on his music stand.

“Yeah, sorry. I thought I finally had it.”

“No big rush. We still have a month, after all.”

“I know, I know. I'm just...”

“Frustrated?” Sorey nodded at his words. “Then let's take a break.”

Mikleo moved about the tiny practice room, setting his cello on a stand and attending to other things. It all rolled over Sorey's mind as he gazed at the music sheet for just a few more moments. His eyes roamed the measures that always slipped him up, fingering each note slowly, wondering why it had to be this one section. Slowed down it was simple enough, but combining quick fingerings with the need to breathe complicated things.

“Come back to it later.” Sorey felt Mikleo's hand at his shoulder, a gentle, but reassuring touch. “Trust me.”

Sorey gave in and set his flute on its stand. He caught the scent of something warm and sweet and familiar, and turned to Mikleo as he opened a small case of cookies. Chocolate registered in his mind, his mouth already watering at the prospect of snacks. Home-baked cookies, and good ones, at that, given Mikleo's track record. He'd even slipped in some of Sorey's favorite—double chocolate chip.

“Enjoy.”

“You bet I will,” Sorey laughed.

Each bite was packed with flavor and Mikleo's distinct style. He'd eaten store-bought cookies on many occasions, but nothing could beat his. He'd have a fine bakery someday, for sure. They laughed and chatted between cookies, Sorey pressing against his shoulder as he let himself relax for a few minutes. His heart leaped with joy just being around him like this; no one else was even close to stirring feelings like Mikleo could, and Sorey wondered if those feelings were mutual. He knew there was something, a spark between them that had always been there, ever since they'd first entered high school. They'd been at each other's side as long as he could remember. And to be honest, Sorey couldn't be happier at the thought of finally being together.

A thought surfaced in his mind then: Valentine's Day wasn't far around the corner. Perhaps he could... No, better to wait until after the competition. Sorey knew he wasn't the type to abandon their friendship over something like that, but still, just the thought of admitting his feelings, of waxing poetic to Mikleo, made his heart skip a beat from anxiety.

“Think I'm ready to try again.” Sorey nodded with confidence.

“Go ahead and play by yourself until you get the hang of things. It might be easier without me to distract you.”

“I'm always distracted by you, Mikleo.”

He'd meant it as a joke, but Sorey realized now the implications, and turned back to his sheet music before his cheeks had time to prickle with heat. Maybe if he played it off as no big deal, it wouldn't have a chance to fluster Mikleo. Even so he felt a soft pat at his shoulder before Mikleo brought the cello back to his seat.

Yeah. He knew.

Nevertheless they continued as usual. After another half hour of practice, Sorey had finally got the part down pat, and they played one more through the piece without any troubles. Though he knew he still needed to work more on his technique, he felt pretty confident about things, considering how often they'd practiced. Mikleo sounded perfect as usual, the mellow tone of his cello practically singing without overpowering the delicate notes of his flute. He probably faced some troubling spots as well, but Sorey sure couldn't tell. String instruments were another realm entirely.

Sorey checked the time and decided it would be best to stop for the afternoon, before it got too late. They still had homework to attend to, after all. With things packed up they headed for the back doors by the band room where Sorey's car awaited. Once his jacket and scarf were in check Sorey dug in his pockets for gloves only to meet nothing but lining. He stopped midstep, wondering if he'd left them back in the room. Or had he forgotten them at home this morning? Mikleo held something out to him, and Sorey smiled in gratitude. He took the white and yellow gloves and slipped them on each hand.

“Forgot them in your locker,” Mikleo explained.

“You couldn't have told me earlier?”

“I kind of... forgot I'd grabbed them. Until I got my own out.” He finished buttoning his own coat, a calming shade of blue that went well with his fair skin and hair. As he gazed outside and Sorey followed his eyes. Snowflakes drifted down in the light of sunset, twinkling like gold and already coating the ground with a layer of snow.

“Wow,” Sorey breathed. “Wish we could just stay out there for a while.”

“Who's to say we can't?”

Sorey grinned at him, an expression that Mikleo returned. “Up for a snowball fight?”

“Sure. If you're up for losing.”

“Oh, it's on.”

Together they hurried out into the snowfall. Homework could wait; for now, he wanted to get the most out of their afternoon together. Flakes and cold winter air kissed Sorey's cheeks, coating both him and Mikleo in white, and after stowing their bags in his car, Sorey balled up snow in his gloved hand. It yielded easily to his touch. With a stockpile formed, he launched the first one Mikleo's way.

At this time of day, only his car remained in this area of the school, meaning they had no worries of accidentally breaking someone's window. He dodged just in time and the ball smacked into the ground with a splat. He'd always had a knack for winter sports—it would take a cunning plan to land a hit. Mikleo arced a snowball his way with impeccable aim and speed, and despire Sorey's efforts, it connected with his arm. Not long afterwards another came his way. It barely grazed his other arm, and he retaliated immediately, too quick for Mikleo to escape. Laughter came as it smacked into his shoulder and sent snow flying. They were quickly losing light, the golden glow giving way to the colder blue of night. Mikleo scooped his remaining snowballs to launch a volley as he hurried Sorey's way. He managed to duck away from some, but the rest landed squarely on him, and dissolved into laughter as he met the snow-covered ground. Above him Mikleo stood victorious.

“Nice try,” he spoke, “but it looks like I win again.”

He wasn't going down without a fight. Sorey scooped up a handful of snow and flung it his way, bringing his friend down to his level until Sorey lay atop him.

“Gotcha,” he teased.

“That doesn't count, I already won!”

More laughter came from both of them, Sorey rolling to his back as they lay there for a few more minutes. He watched the snow as it tumbled down around them, his arm resting beneath Mikleo but not uncomfortably so.

“Thanks for today,” Sorey said. “For practicing and everything.”

“My pleasure. I'm glad you were able to get that part down.”

“Let's just hope I don't blow it in a month.”

Mikleo nudged him. “You'll be fine. I promise.”

He appreciated the words, as well as his never-ending support. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“At any rate, we should get back home.” Mikleo pushed himself up and helped Sorey to his feet as well.

“Right.” Sorey rubbed his arms, the chill of winter well set in by now. “It'll only get colder from here out.”

Mikleo himself didn't mind this weather, but Sorey could do without it. Hot chocolate was in order once he got home. They sought shelter in his car and cranked the heat up before going anywhere. He'd need to be good and ready to drive in the onset of snow. Mikleo took his hands into his own to help warm them up, still both gloved, and even though it didn't provide much heat he appreciated the gesture. A smile bloomed on his face that he couldn't hold back, his mind reeling with thoughts and how much he loved just being together with him. He didn't dare try anything now, but maybe come Valentine's Day, he would have the confidence to let Mikleo know where his feelings truly lie.


	2. Fugue

Absently Sorey fiddled with the pencil in his hand, gazing over the work he had done with furrowed brows. Math was one of the few subjects he just didn't get. Meanwhile, Rose and Alisha had already turned in their tests and moved to reading instead while they waited for others to finish. Too frustrated to stay on this one problem, Sorey went through to fill out the rest of the questions. Aside from the ticking of the clock and the occasional shuffle of paper, a dead silence hung over the room. Mikleo returned from handing his own test in, and with a bit more concentration Sorey finally broke through the question that had stumped him.

With everything finished to the best of his ability, Sorey went ahead and brought it to the professor's desk, trying not to meet his chilling gaze. Professor Heldalf stood at nearly six feet tall with hair of gold and an impressive, well-kept beard. His class had proven rigorous, as upperclassmen had warned the year before. Sorey found him gruff and unforgiving for the most part, and he wasn't sure whether he would ever grow to like him, even though Sorey always searched for the good in people, no matter what. He supposed that at least he was dedicated to his job and left no stone unturned.

Thankfully, math was the last class of the day, Sorey's mind rendered to mush by the end of it. He sought out whatever he could to chase away the lethargy, and often times that solace was found in practicing flute. Once class was dismissed and he left the room behind, Sorey let out a sigh. He'd be too spent for anything at this rate.

"Hey, look on the bright side." Rose patted his shoulder. "At least you don't have to worry about that test anymore."

"Speak for yourself. You probably enjoyed that, didn't you?" Sorey replied. With her, Alisha, and Mikleo at his side, they strolled through the hallways now filling up with students.

"About as much as you can,” Rose continued. “I thought it was kinda easy."

"How did you come to like math, anyway?" Mikleo asked. "It doesn't seem like you."

"Careful how you pick your words." Rose rested hands behind her head. "My dad works in business and deals with math a lot. So I kinda grew up knowing it. “ She paused. "But... to be honest, academia isn't really my thing."

They reached Rose’s locker first, and broke away with words of farewell. Sorey turned to Alisha then, noticing she had kept unusually quiet. Even in math, he could read the tension in her face, in her posture. He wished he could pinpoint the source, but knew better than to just poke his nose in other people's problems.

"So, Alisha." Sorey rubbed his neck. Surely a topic she enjoyed would cheer her up. "How's that solo going?"

"It's alright. I wish I could say it was going better."

"We hear you sometimes," Mikleo added. "When we practice."

Sorey nodded. "You'll get a division one for sure."

"Thank you. That means a lot." For the first time all day, she finally cracked a smile, hiding it behind her hand. "I'm sorry, but I have to study at the library for a little bit. I'll see you two later."

"Wow, no breaks?" Sorey spoke.

"I'll be fine!” Alisha assured them. “Don't worry about me."

They waved goodbye, but Sorey had to admit he felt concerned. She tended to push herself, probably because of her upbringing in a prosperous household. They likely expected much from her, which was only fair, to a certain point. Hopefully she enjoyed her studying as much as the violin. Her words returned to Sorey's mind, how she wished the solo could be better. Alisha was plenty good at it already; she had won first chair the last two years in a row, and shouldered the task of the most rigorous solos. She always played phenomenally, as if the violin were an extension of herself.

"Think she's okay?" Sorey asked as they rummaged through their locker.

Mikleo slipped into his coat. "She'll let us know if the time comes. Though I admit, I'm worried too."

"Yeah. She's always talked about how much she loves playing."

"There isn't much we can do, though. I wouldn't let it bother you."

"You're right,” Sorey sighed. He packed away what books he needed for the evening and threw on his coat as well. “Anyway, I'll just be at home tonight, if you want to hang out."

"Thanks, but... I need to rest right now. I feel like I'm coming down with something." A soft sigh came from Mikleo as he pushed the locker closed. 

Now Mikleo’s potential onset of illness worried Sorey—he wasn’t about to have a repeat of last year. He checked his friend over for telltale signs. Nothing seemed to be out of place, but then again, Mikleo was already quite pale. If sickness had overcome him, any typical signs would be difficult to pinpoint.

"I understand.” Sorey assured him, smiling warmly. “Call if you need anything."

Mikleo thanked him, and once they were packed and ready, the two of them made their way home together. Sorey noticed how Mikleo kept his scarf pulled close the whole way back, as though trying to contain his body heat. Considering he didn't mind the cold, it felt out of place to see him huddled up like this. Hopefully whatever illness had come over him would be cured with a good night's sleep.

* * *

Come morning, Mikleo was nowhere to be seen at their usual meeting spot for school. Any texts he sent garnered no response, and had to assume the worst, that Mikleo’s sickness had made him too exhausted to even send back emoticons. He could manage not having Mikleo at his side for one day, but still, it felt strange to roam the halls without his presence. In history he was sure to keep diligent notes, not only for the sake of the particular topic, but for Mikleo's, as well. Once class had ended, he made his way for Professor Strelka's desk.

"Ah, Sorey." The professor straightened his stack of papers and folded hands together. "I noticed your friend is absent today."

"Out sick," Sorey explained. "Could I have a copy of the homework for him?"

"Yes, of course. Quite a diligent friend you are."

Sorey rubbed at his neck. "It's the least I could do."

"Here you are." Strelka handed off a leaflet that Sorey tucked into his bag. "Please give Mikleo my regards. And take care of yourself. Sickness is rampant this time of year."

"I'll be okay. Thank you."

After school he could swing by what other classes he knew Mikleo had. It was about all he could manage since both attended different ones through the day. At least orchestra wouldn't be anything to fret over. As he entered the storage room come class time, he found Alisha fidgeting as she removed the violin from its case. Her gaze was downcast and quite obviously distracted. A pat to her shoulder startled her, and she turned to Sorey with widened eyes.

"Oh, Sorey...!" She sighed in relief.

"Sorry!" He quickly removed his hand. The last thing he wanted to do was to startle her. She hadn’t dropped her violin, at least. "Are you... okay? You look really upset."

Alisha tucked hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry... I just have a lot on my mind." She gazed back towards him. "You look a little down, yourself."

"Really?” He chuckled dryly. “Well, Mikleo's sick today, so maybe that's why."

"I see. That's unfortunate."

As Sorey went to piece his own flute together she followed right behind. "He'll be okay,” Sorey spoke. “He always rebounds quickly."

"Let's hope you don't fall sick, as well."

"You mean like last year?" Sorey laughed under his breath. That was an ordeal; out with the flu for a whole week.

"Yes, especially now. I'd hate for you to miss the contest again."

Even more so since he and Mikleo had put so much heart and effort into it this year. Sorey entered the music room, the blare of a trumpet—Rose's doing— and trills of a flute cutting through the drone of strings as they practiced sections before class. He took his seat at first chair and attempted to tune among the chaos, not finding much luck.

Lailah stepped up to the conductor's platform, and slowly the ruckus died down. Tuning and warm ups began, and all his thoughts of Alisha's struggling and Mikleo’s illnesses melted away into the swell of music around him. They had just begun a new piece for the upcoming concert that spring, and as Sorey soon discovered, called for a solo on the flute partway through.

Nerves tingled both in anxiety and anticipation. A glance up to Lailah brought him a nod from her in return, tempo slowing as she cued in his solo. The beginning runs were simple enough, but sections broke away into sharps and flats that made things trickier to manage. Bass and horns provided a backdrop to his trills, the rest of the orchestra joining back in. Pretty decent for sight-reading. His thoughts immediately went to Mikleo and realized he hadn’t been there to hear it, at least not this first time. Soon enough he would be back and helping to support his part, just like with their duet.

After running through a few more sections orchestra came to a close for the day. As Sorey packed up a renewed feeling of cheerfulness swelled up inside, enough so to chase away the worries he’d felt towards Mikleo. Everything would work out given enough time. Even Alisha had perked up somewhat at lunch, laughing along with Rose and the terrible jokes she always made.

“By the way,” Rose spoke, “where’s our favorite cellist? Out sick with a cold?”

“Something like that. He wasn’t doing well yesterday, either.”

“Well, that’s _tuba_ d.”

Sorey had to laugh at that one. “You’re pretty sharp with these puns. Mine always fall a little flat.”

“As you can see, it’s no minor task.”

Sorey could practically hear Mikleo groaning at all the musical puns.

“You two are nothing but treble,” Alisha teased.

“Oh, that was a good one!” Rose batted her shoulder. “We were almost out of puns for a minuet.” 

Back and forth the three of them went, until even Alisha was hiding laughter behind her hand, their spirits springing anew like a flower in bloom after winter's long reign.

* * *

Sorey uncovered the spare key hidden on Mikleo's front porch, the tumblers clicking as he slid it into the lock. Warmth flooded him as he stepped in from the cold, and he made sure to lock the door again before kicking off his boots. After a day of rest, Mikleo had recovered some, but still, Sorey insisted on dropping by to make sure. Especially since his mother would be too busy with her jobs to stay home for long.

He made his way to Mikleo's room, a path he could navigate with his eyes closed. A knock on the door summoned a cough and a groggy “come in”. Slowly he pushed the door open to see Mikleo buried under blankets amid the soft glow of his bedside lamp. A book lay on the bed beside his pillow—their favorite novel, The Celestial Record, that always helped cheer them up when dealing with stress. He had probably read all day until he succumbed to fatigue.

“You didn't have to come,” Mikleo insisted as he sat upright. “I'm doing better now.”

“You still sound pretty sick to me.”

“I just woke up, that's all. Oh, but Mom should be home for a little bit tonight. She wanted to check on me, too.”

“Should I leave, then? I know you don't get to hang around with her much.”

Mikleo shook his head. “No, I could use some company for a while. It's been quiet all day.”

“I would think so.” Sorey sat at the edge of his bed and brought a hand to his forehead, brushing his bangs aside to feel the skin. Not any warmer than it should be. “No fever.”

“It was mostly this morning I was sick.” Mikleo fixed his bangs once Sorey pulled back.

“You had to fight a fever on your own? I'm sorry, if I'd known—“

“I didn't want to be a liability. And besides, there's no reason for you to miss school, too.”

“I guess so... Oh!” Sorey slung his bag off his shoulder and set it on the ground, and he rummaged through folders and notebooks until he'd found the blank worksheets. “Here. I got what I could for your homework. And Professor Strelka says hello, too.”

“Hey, it's better than nothing,” Mikleo assured him. “See? You still helped out a little.”

“It's the least I could do.”

Mikleo set them aside on his nightstand. “I'll probably have to duck out of practice tomorrow, to catch up on everything. That's not to say you can't practice, though.”

“We could always postpone until Friday. That'll give you something to look forward to.” Wednesdays had originally been their agreed-upon day to practice. Just a little over a month remained until the contest; they could afford some leeway. “But for now, I guess I'll let you get back to sleep.”

Sorey began to stand, only for Mikleo’s hand to wrap around his wrist, warm from being wrapped up in blankets all day. “Mikleo?”

“Could you stay? Just a little longer?”

He supposed that being sick and alone all day would drive anyone to want companionship. And truth be told, he had missed seeing Mikleo during school. “Sure. I can just work on my homework.”

“Thank you.” Mikleo’s hand retreated, and Sorey found himself wishing he’d held on just a few more minutes. “Make yourself at home. Snacks and all.” He paused to laugh. “Make sure you leave some for me.”

“Relax, I will.”

“Anyway, let me take a shower first, and then we can start on that homework.”

With backpack in hand Sorey made his way out to the living room, letting Mikleo have his space for now. Though his stomach growled from hunger, he decided to wait until Mikleo had returned before asking for snacks. In the living room he set up a study area, sure to save history for last so that they'd have a chance to enjoy it together. By the time he'd finished a packet of questions for a book they'd been reading for English, Mikleo strolled out with sweats and a t-shirt that hung loosely over his frame, his hair still damp and mussed from the shower. Sorey had to avert his gaze for a few moments, too flustered to say anything.

“Gonna put on some tea,” Mikleo announced. “Also, I made some some teacake yesterday, before I came down with whatever. Want some?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Sorey was already on his feet, making a beeline to where Mikleo was setting out the little cakes. Light and sponge-like, it paired nicely with the subtle flavors of tea. He could hardly wait to dig in.

“You don't have to wait for me, you know.” Mikleo set a kettle to the stove and fiddled with the switches. “I know how hungry you get.”

Sorey gathered a few cakes for himself and placed them back at his study nook. While Mikleo waited for the water to heat he brought his own notebooks and supplies out as well. They started on the readings for history, excited to be learning about the times of musicians whose names they'd seen in orchestra. Together they studied in peace, with the calming warmth of tea and hints of sweetness the teacakes provided. Sorey ended up staying longer than he'd intended, and by the time they'd finished, the darkness of night creeping through the windows.

As he checked his phone for the time, he realized that Valentine's Day was less than two weeks out. He still hadn't thought of how best to approach the subject of his growing feelings, not to mention he hadn't even considered a gift to give him. Sweets would work best, he knew, but the question was what, exactly. Worries of rejection had already taken root and threatened to bloom into something greater. Part of him wondered if it was best to forget the whole thing.

No—he couldn't. He needed a plan, he needed words to convey just exactly what Mikleo meant to him. That he wanted Mikleo to remain in his life, as something other than a friend. Already he could hear Rose teasing him over his fears. But perhaps that was just what he needed, encouragement from his friends.

With that plan in mind, worries began to slowly dissipate. Things might just work after all.

* * *

Rose folded her arms across her chest in thought, a mischievous grin soon alighting her face. “Recite a poem. He loves stuff like that, doesn't he?”

“You don't think that's too sappy?” Sorey scratched at the back of his head. It was true, Mikleo did enjoy the drama and poetry of old. But it wasn't quite the approach he was going for.

“You two are basically a couple anyway. I don't think he'd mind.”

“We—what?” He blinked, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.

“Oh, come on!” As Rose laughed her posture relaxed. “It's so obvious.”

“I'm just... worried,” he sighed, shoulders slumping.

“He isn't gonna hate you, Sorey. I promise. You guys are like peas in a pod.”

The sound of footsteps pulled Sorey's attention away briefly, spotting Mikleo as he came down the hall. His change in expression had Rose glancing his way as well, but that knowing smirk was still on her face.

“And just what are you two conspiring?” Mikleo teased as he approached.

Rose gazed back to him for a moment before winking. “Just chatting about that math test. Sorey here actually did really well.”

What did she mean, actually? Ignoring her mild jab, Sorey nodded quickly and followed her change of topic. “Not looking forward to the next one, though.”

“Yeah,” Mikleo agreed, “Mister Heldalf is way too brutal. I doubt college is going to be that intense.”

Rose shrugged. “He's just a crotchety old man. Don't let him get to you.”

“A-anyway, are you ready to practice, Mikleo?” One topic change after another. Sorey hoped he hadn't caught on to their earlier discussion.

“That's why I'm here.”

“I'll let you boys get to it, then.” Rose waved goodbye. “I'm hanging out with Alisha, so no need to take me home.”

With farewells exchanged, they pulled out their instruments and made their way to the practice room. The low hum of Mikleo's cello as he tuned was a relief to Sorey's ears, and together they played until the pitches matched up correctly. A glance at each other indicated they were ready, and Mikleo drew his bow along strings, introducing a melody with a slow, minor key, somber and full of emotion, almost as though his cello itself were singing. Soon Sorey joined in with soft notes that layered the two and brought them into harmony, until both mirrored the other in the melody they played. 

Eventually Mikleo backed down to piano, much quieter, to allow Sorey's melody to soar forth; and so back and forth they went, from individual melodies that built on another until they played as one. Butterflies flittered in his stomach and a chill crept up his spine at the gentle timbre of Mikleo's cello, so filled with life. He was so caught up in it all that he didn't realize his troubling section came until it rested a mere measure away, but he managed what he could, playing through it perfectly this time around. Arpeggios and trills and all, he smiled to himself as he backed away to let Mikleo shine through with his cello. The end approached all too soon, and with one final drawn-out note, they ended the piece together on a major note that turned the somber piece into something that hinted at hope.

“You worked hard on that part, didn't you,” Mikleo spoke.

“Yeah. I don't want to let us down again this year.”

“Hey.” Mikleo reached out to touch his shoulder, smiling in reassurance. “You aren't letting anyone down. Certainly not me, not ever.”

Sorey couldn't help laughing, placing a hand to his with a smile in return. Rose was right. Mikleo wouldn't suddenly hate him for confessing how he felt, and just like the piece they practiced, the worry of the past week gave rise to the hope he had long been searching for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song they play is modeled after Astor Piazzolla's _Oblivion_. It's not meant to be that exact piece, but it had the right tone I was looking for. Check it out on Youtube if you'd like!


	3. Cantabile

Quiet chatter filled Sorey's ears as he stepped into Hyland Cafe with the others. The rich browns of the cafe's décor, along with the warm scent of coffee drifting by, provided a sense of comfort and calm away from the winter winds. Rose grabbed them a table and set her coat down to mark their spot. She searched around for a fourth chair to pull over from a different table, finally hunting one down before strolling over to the counter for her order. Their table was positioned near a brick fireplace where a low fire flickered atop the wood pile. Given the cafe's proximity to the school, it had proven to be a popular hangout point for students after class, especially when it came to studying. Many others had already had the same idea, familiar faces drifting past Sorey's vision as he gazed around.

At the counter Sorey asked for his usual, mocha with extra chocolate. As he moved to pull out his wallet Mikleo halted his arm. “I got it,” he explained, accepting no further protests. He paid for both Sorey's and his own, one of the sweet-sounding holiday specials, and both moved out of line for Rose and Alisha to make their orders.

“Mikleo...” Sorey sighed.

“As thanks,” he explained, “for helping out when I was sick.”

“But I barely did anything. Not enough for you to... buy me a drink.”

Mikleo folded arms over his chest. “You've put in a lot of effort with the duet, too. I'd just like to do something for you.”

A nudge to his arm from Rose. “Say thank you,” she muttered to his ear.

“I... thank you, Mikleo. I appreciate it.”

In the corner of his eye Sorey watched as baristas hustled around behind the counter, producing one drink after another for the students pouring into the cafe. Soon their drinks were brought to the side counter, and with cups in hand they both made their way back to the table. The heat helped warm up Sorey’s fingers still recovering from the cold. Sorey pulled out notebooks and pencils in the lull before studying began. Since their test last week Heldalf had thrust them into a new unit even more dizzying than the last, with square roots and imaginary numbers—the latter of which made his head spin just listening to the explanation. He found it a bit strange that history, with so many events and people to remember, was child's play to him, and yet math proved to be so challenging. He was thankful to have people like Rose in his group, who could explain things in a way that made much more sense.

“Alright,” Rose said as she approached with Alisha. “Let's get this over with.”

The bustle of the cafe faded to white noise, helping them focus as they delved into textbook and notes. Sorey and Mikleo pored over their shared textbook and worked through the questions Heldalf had assigned. So long as he took it slow Sorey could solve most of them, but at times would turn to Mikleo for help with a particular equation. While things may not have made sense at first glance, Sorey had a knack of remembering facts once he'd taken the time to absorb and understand it. Although certainly not easy, things proved to go more smoothly the further he went along.

Once his hand grew too cramped to write, Sorey set his pencil and notebook aside for the time. His coffee was long gone, and he found himself wishing he'd gotten a pack of treats as well. Once Mikleo realized he'd stopped for a break, he followed suit, until all four of them had straightened in their seats.

“I don't know about you, but I've had enough math for a lifetime,” Mikleo said, hand running through his hair with a sigh.

“At least we won't have to worry about this class once we graduate.” Sorey had picked up his pencil again to fiddle with it, tapping out the rhythm of his part in the duet. Whenever they had practice, the song had a habit of sticking in his mind for at least another day.

“Or Professor Hell,” Rose added.

Sorey's pencil halted. “Rose, don't call him that,” he hushed, “that's rude.”

“What? No one's gonna tell on us. I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels that way.”

Mikleo placed a hand to his chin in thought. “It's true that he is... tenacious. But I agree with Sorey. You shouldn't call him that.”

“Oh, geez,” Rose sighed. “It was just a joke.”

Sorey's eyes flickered to Alisha, who had kept to herself all the while. He noticed how she seemed to withdraw into herself, like in the storage room the week before. “Everything okay, Alisha?”

She perked up a little at her name, gazing from Sorey to Mikleo. “Huh? I'm sorry, what were you saying?”

“You look like something happened.”

“I suppose you could say that.” Alisha rubbed at her arm, then moved to square her notebook up with the table. “Practice with my tutor is... not going so well.”

“No kidding.” Rose propped her head on her hand. “You mean that Maltran lady? She seemed pretty nice when I met her.”

“Well, she is for the most part, yes. She keeps saying that I need to get better even though I'm doing my best. But I have school to focus on. And myself. I used to feel so excited to play, but now...” She sighed, her shoulders slumping as her gaze dropped. “I almost don't want to anymore.”

“You want to give it up? Like, now?”

“I don't know. Maybe.” She paused to twirl hair in her finger. “There's only a few months left in school, though, so I'm trying to hold out until then.”

“You should say something to her,” Sorey suggested. Even if it his efforts proved futile, he couldn't sit there doing nothing while a friend suffered right before him.

“I've tried to. But all she says is that I need to balance my time better. I mean, she's a renowned violinist. I should be grateful that she takes time from her schedule to teach. As for me...”

“You're still good. Especially for someone your age,” Mikleo said.

Rose nodded. “You're young. You have school and friends to think about, not just music. She needs to understand that."

“I suppose so,” Alisha spoke. She still seemed conflicted, but at the very least, her posture had straightened.

“Tell you what. Why don't you play the solo for us sometime?” Rose asked.

“For the contest, you mean?”

“Well, yeah,” Rose laughed. “What other solo would there be?”

“That would be fine. I was planning to practice tomorrow, anyway,” Alisha said, a sheepish smile pulling at her lips.

“We'll come too,” Sorey assured her. “We've only heard bits and pieces so far. I'd love to listen to the whole thing.”

The smile began to grow even more, until Alisha laughed with embarrassment. “Okay, I will. Let's meet up tomorrow after school again.”

“You betcha. It's nice to have the old Alisha back.”

“I'm sorry for worrying everyone.” Alisha bowed her head. “I can't say for sure how things will end up, but I'll keep trying. Thank you all so much.”

“No need to be sorry,” Mikleo said. “I think everyone gets like that sometimes. You can lose sight of yourself.”

“Right,” said Sorey. “You just need to remember that you're not alone.”

With more words of gratitude and a promise to meet up tomorrow, they wrapped up their study session for the day and packed all their things away, Sorey already dreading the return to the cold winter air.

* * *

Alisha tucked the end of the violin beneath her chin, and with one small breath, drew her bow across the strings. A high, sweeping melody filled the room that contrasted with the more somber mood of his own duet. Her hand oscillated over the fret board, giving the notes a vibrato, a pulsating pitch that gave the violin its distinct tone. It was a technique Sorey recognized from the times he’d watched Mikleo play. At times Alisha would close her eyes and become lost in emotion as her hand navigated up and down the board in practiced motions. Sorey watched her move in fascination, wondering if she would even need sheet music at this point. She broke off into a melody more brisk and flouncy, drawing out notes at a rhythm that brought a sparkle to Mikleo's eyes.

Sorey loved the feeling that emotional, well-played music brought, feeling warmth surge through him and tickle his cheeks. He couldn't detect any flaw in her technique; Maltran was indeed a violinist of high caliber if she had said it was lacking. The final note vibrated through the room, and for the seconds that followed, no one dared to move.

When Alisha finally relaxed, applause resounded in the small practice room. Embarrassed but still proud, she bowed to the three of them as they cheered. Partway through Sorey had to halt his applause to cough, a tickle in the back of his throat he had been feeling all day. Of course. Just like last year. The others hadn't caught on, too wrapped up in their admiration of the performance. He hoped it was nothing, just a head cold, something he would recover from quickly. He wasn't about to have all of his efforts sabotaged again.

“Seriously, Alisha,” Rose spoke, “I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

Mikleo nodded. “Puns aside, I agree. Your technique was spot-on. Especially those runs and glissandos.”

“Oh, you mean that part. It took a while to get.” Alisha looked back over her music and played the section in question. Her notes glided in quick succession, one after the other, her expression one of deep concentration. Sorey recognized that look. So she had her own problem sections, too. But like him, she had overcome it with perseverance.

“Yeah, that's exactly it,” Mikleo said. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Go right ahead.”

While Alisha discussed her technique with Mikleo, Rose folded her arms and bumped against Sorey's shoulder. “So?” she spoke, a gleam in her eye. “Any ideas yet?”

“Oh. Well...” Sorey pondered as he trailed off. Truth be told, an idea had sparked earlier, though he wasn't sure how it might work. “Cookies, maybe. I want to try baking.”

“Playing right into his field, huh? I think that'll win you some points.”

The question now was when, and how to get his thoughts across. It was something he had to do himself—no borrowing words from poems of old, no asking for the exact words from Rose or Alisha. He wanted it all to come from his own heart, his own thoughts—himself. 

Mikleo returned to his side, the three of them thanking Alisha for the chance to hear her perform.

“No, I should be thanking all of you,” she stammered. “You've helped me focus on the positives. I think I just needed the feedback to let me know I was going down the right path.”

“Of course,” Mikleo spoke. “You'll make a remarkable musician someday.”

“That's the thing.” Alisha lowered her violin and gently placed it on her chair. “I'm not... sure that I'll do violin once high school is through.”

“If that's what you want, it's your decision,” said Rose.

Alisha's eyes widened, taken aback for a moment. “I thought for sure you'd insist that I keep playing. For now, I'm not sure if I want to be a politician, or a musician, or something completely unrelated.”

“You've got a lot of potential. And opportunities. We just want you to be happy.”

“Thank you.” Alisha's hesitation, her heavy mood, lifted with a rise of her shoulders. “I'll give it some thought.”

They had certainly grown much closer over the last year than all the years before. Their days of squabbling might not be in the past, but Sorey was still gladdened to see them get along so well now, glad to see Rose encouraging her. To do what Alisha felt was right, not follow along with the expectations as she had done so many times in the past. 

With their encouragement Alisha went back to practicing, and the three of them filed out of the room. As Sorey began to move towards the storage room a soft pat came to his arm, turning around to find Mikleo.

“Hey. Can we talk?” his friend asked. Sorey couldn't read his face, unsettled by the possibility that something was wrong. Mikleo expression gave way to a reassuring smile. “It's alright. Nothing life-threatening.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Over here.” Mikleo directed them to their practice room. Must have been something serious, at least, if Mikleo preferred privacy to the open walls of the hallway.

Sorey followed behind obediently and pulled the door closed behind them. An arm crossed Mikleo's shoulder as he placed his other hand to his chin, concentrating on his thoughts for a few moments. In the silence that followed Sorey could feel his heart pound against his chest. 

“I'm not sure how else to say this, so I'll just be straightforward. I—” Mikleo shifted his hand behind his neck as a pink flush stained his cheeks, all the more prominent against his pale skin. “I've liked you for a while now. If you don't feel the same, I understand. I just didn't want to keep hiding the truth from you.”

A shiver ran down Sorey's body at Mikleo's words. Here he had been, worried at Mikleo's potential rejection, only to have him speak the very words in Sorey's mind. Sorey took in a breath, his throat dry from anticipation. “I actually... was going to ask you on Valentine's Day. If you felt that way.” Sorey rubbed his arm to keep his fingers from fidgeting. 

“So we were on the same wavelength, as usual.” Mikleo laughed to himself and shook his head. “It's true. We are birds of a feather.”

Sorey nudged at his shoulder, and Mikleo soon realized his intent, blocking his other hand as it came for his side. Mikleo took advantage of his lowered defense and sent hands right to his stomach, trying to tickle him as Sorey wiggled fingers over his sides. Laughter shook through them until Sorey was backed to a wall at the mercy of Mikleo's teasing. His arms snapped to his sides in defense as he tried to bat Mikleo's hands away, only to have him pin arms to the wall and tickle relentlessly.

“Stop, stop!” Sorey's words, breathy and laced with laughter, came haltingly from his lips.

At his request Mikleo backed away, laughing himself all the while. Sorey wiped away the tears stinging his eyes while a residual chuckle bubbled in his throat.

“I win again,” Mikleo declared.

“I'll get you one of these days,” Sorey promised, grinning to let him know it was all play. Breath finally returned to his lungs as his stomach recovered from Mikleo's harmless assault.

“You never gave me your answer, by the way.”

“Oh!” Sorey laughed again, in embarrassment this time. “Yeah. I'll... um...”

Mikleo gave him one last teasing jab. “Stop beating around the bush?”

“Yes, sorry. I'll go out with you.”

Never had Sorey expected he would be the one to say those words. Though nothing had gone the way he'd planned out in his mind, it certainly made things easier—one less stress off his shoulders. Valentine's Day would run a bit differently now, but time still remained to rework his idea. Mikleo laced his fingers with Sorey's and pulled him the slightest bit closer, leaning up on his toes to bring them together.

* * *

Sorey had lost track of how many times he had to break away from his baking to cough. By now his sore throat was grating on his nerves, and realized he probably shouldn't be concocting a recipe with the onset of a cold. For now, at least, he hadn't come down with any sign of illness—just an annoying tickle in the back of his throat. Still, he couldn't be too cautious, and did all he could to keep himself one step ahead of whatever had started to set in. And it wasn't like these cookies would be going straight to Mikleo. It was his first attempt at them, anyway, and knowing his luck they'd probably burn to a crisp in the oven. But he had to get some practice in before the real thing.

With each step he double-checked the recipe, and finally slid the dough into the oven, hoping for at least some success for his efforts. Just when he set the timer keys jingled in the back door, and in walked Uncle Mayvin, setting his oversized satchel down on the floor.

“Ah, cooking something up?” Mayvin asked. His jovial, inquisitive spirit always helped to lift Sorey's mood, especially after not seeing him for so long—his job as history professor at a local college kept him on a busy schedule.

“I'm trying out cookies,” Sorey explained as he moved to clean up some of his supplies.

“A good idea this time of year. Mind if I have a try when they're done?”

“So long as they turn out.”

Uncle Mayvin had taken care of him since childhood, and instilled a sense of wonder in both him and Mikleo with all his knowledge of history. He was part of the reason Sorey had chosen to devote his studies to it; like Professor Strelka, he infused life into his stories of people and relics of the past. Though he still hadn't decided which path he would take—teacher, archaeologist, perhaps something more—history was one thing that never failed to brighten up his day. Orchestra was probably the one other subject he held such devotion for.

Mayvin left him to his baking and moved off to grade papers. In the lull it took for the cookies to bake Sorey sent messages to Mikleo, still getting used to the change in their relationship. Not much of a change, since they'd been close as long as he could remember. But Mikleo's texts carried a different overarching tone now.

The oven's timer signaled the baking had finished, and after sending one last text to Mikleo, Sorey prepared a space for the tray. He reached in with his oven mitt to find they had turned an unappetizing shade of brown; much closer to black than anything else. With a groan he set them down and turned off the oven. Granted it was his first time in years, but he would've liked at least some level of success with baking. At least he still had time to refine his skill. Next time, he'd pay more attention to time and less to his other activities. 

Carefully, once the pan had cooled, he took a cookie in hand and tried it. Crumbling and a bit too brittle, and nowhere near the flavors Mikleo's had. He wasn't sure if he could handle eating all of them, and he certainly couldn't hand them off to Mayvin. Still he saved at least one to try and figure out just where he'd gone wrong.

_Need baking tips_ , Sorey texted to Mikleo, hoping it wouldn't spoil his present. While awaiting a reply he read over the recipe again pulled from an old cookbook he’d dug up in the kitchen, realizing that perhaps better ones existed in more recent ones.

_You'll need to be more specific_ , Mikleo replied. Even in text form his voice carried over.

Sorey explained his inability to bake cookies. A full-on lesson wasn't needed, just hints that would spare him another burnt mess. Mikleo offered some of his own cookbooks to borrow, which Sorey accepted with hearty thanks.

_Don't mention it_ , Mikleo said, relaying tips—level off measuring cups, use butter and eggs that were already at room temperature. Sorey hurried to his room for a pad of paper, taking notes as the texts came through. All advice he never would've thought up. A plethora of questions remained, but Sorey could save it for when they met face-to-face again. For now, at least, this helped immensely. His mood was spoiled by another series of coughs that reminded him of the looming cold that was developing. He should've realized when he'd taken care of Mikleo that this might happen, but he was far from regretting the time they'd been able to spend together.

He just prayed the previous year's events didn't unfold upon them again.


	4. Fermata

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some minor spoilers involving Dezel, though it's more just one of his character traits. It's towards the end of this chapter, just so you're aware (if you didn't already know that info about him).

Sorey felt as though something had clawed at the back of his throat, his voice reduced to a hoarse mutter from the barrage of coughs setting in. Somewhere, somehow, he had definitely contracted something. Whether from being in and out of hot and cold, or catching the bug from someone else, he couldn't say, and it certainly hadn't been the first time coming down with something this year. On the upside of things, his symptoms hadn't shown to be as severe as last year—ruling out the possibility of another run-in with the flu.

Even orchestra proved difficult to concentrate in. He realized it would have probably been best to stay home for the day, but with so much to worry about during school—history and math and group projects—he couldn't bring himself to. Music did little to cure his headache, and a sense of dread set in when he realized his solo was soon to come. As with each time before Lailah cued him in with a nod of her head. With what focus he could muster Sorey read his parts closely, his performance suffering from a lack of motor skills and proper breathing. It was all he could manage in the state he was in. At the very least he hadn't skipped any notes, but nonetheless Lailah cut off the music with a wave of her hand, concern on her face as Sorey met her eyes.

“Is that part too difficult, Sorey?” she asked.

“No, that's not it.” Sorey shook his head. His voice probably gave away the cold. “I'm sorry. I haven't been feeling well lately.”

“Well,” Lailah mused, “for now, let's have someone fill in for you. Symonne, could you play that part today?”

The second-chair flute, a girl in Sorey's grade with raven hair, nodded. “Yes. Of course.”

As the section began anew, Sorey kept the flute at his knee while Symonne took over his part. She must have been practicing it despite not having the role herself, as she played with fervor and grace Sorey couldn't match in his current state. For the rest of orchestra Sorey played quietly to help conserve his dwindling strength. Time slipped by slowly like honey from a spoon, mulling over whether he should go home afterwards. Math would be no easy feat to work through on a day like today.

Lailah dismissed them for the day, pity flickering over her eyes as she gave Sorey one final glance. As she strolled by she place a hand to his shoulder, and Sorey understood completely. With the strength he had Sorey gave her a small smile in thanks. Beside him Symonne packed up her folder and turned to him, a haughty smirk painted on her face.

“Let's hope you get better soon,” she said. “A sick shepherd is never good for the flock.”

Sorey ignored the insult to his last name, to himself. “Me too. You did well on that solo, by the way.”

Her grin flickered a little, surprised that he would praise her after the affront. With a word of thanks that lacked gratitude, she strolled away to return her flute to the storage room. Mikleo seemed to materialize before Sorey's eyes—had he packed his cello away that quickly?

“I never liked her.” Mikleo folded his arms. “But more importantly. How are you feeling?”

“I know you can tell.” Sorey tried to stand and took the help Mikleo offered. “You think I should go home?”

“It's up to you, really. Whatever you feel is best.”

“I'd hate to miss class just because I don't feel good.” As Sorey made his way to the storage room Mikleo remained at his side. The world spun while he tried to put his flute away, a helping hand at his back all the while.

“Wait here.”

Sorey did as asked, holding onto the ledge of the storage bin to help keep him on both feet. A figure edged into his vision, clothed in a pink and white dress that he recognized right away. His gaze turned upwards to find Alisha standing before him, sympathy alight in her eyes.

“Sorey? Are you doing all right?”

“I'm not feeling so hot.”

“I wondered if something was wrong.” She placed a hand to his forehead, her skin oddly cool against his. “Oh, you're burning up.”

“Sorey,” Mikleo interrupted. “We're going home.”

“Huh?” Sorey turned to face him. He'd already grabbed his backpack from the bin, his keys in hand.

“Good idea. We can't have you fainting in math class,” said Alisha.

Being seniors meant they had permission to leave during lunch, giving Mikleo plenty of time to drop Sorey off before math class later on. Dizziness caused him to lean against Mikleo for support, and he vaguely remembered Alisha wishing him better before traversing the halls. Mikleo kept his arm around Sorey's, leading them down to their locker to grab coats before leaving. Mikleo helped pull his on and wound a scarf around his neck, warm from the onset of a fever and all his layers, knowing they'd be needed shortly, but still wishing he could pull them back off. With his knapsack in place on his back, Sorey followed Mikleo out the doors and into the bitter wind. Mikleo shielded him as they stepped over to the car.

Inside at last, Sorey slumped in the passenger's seat, barely able to keep himself awake at this point. He couldn't pinpoint whether the shivers taking over him were from cold or the sickness, but he pulled his jacket closer anyways, taking advantage of the ride to rest. A plan overthrown by coughs that left his chest stinging as he curled tighter into himself. Though sleep tugged at him he could still feel a hand run through his hair, providing at least some distraction from the aches and fever.

The engine cut off, and Mikleo helped him to the house, navigating it by feel more than memory, too exhausted to think much. He remembered climbing into bed and fighting to keep the covers up, only to have Mikleo pull them away and pat down his head with a damp cloth. Everything ran together, sights and sounds and sensations, until his body finally gave in to fatigue.

* * *

A hand at Sorey's shoulder stirred him awake, and slowly he opened eyes to find a figure haloed in pale hair. As he blinked things came more into focus, realizing it was Mikleo at his side, and with his help Sorey managed to sit up.

“Feeling better?” Mikleo asked.

A cough intercepted Sorey's answer. “I'm getting there. What time is it?”

“After school.” Mikleo fiddled with something out of Sorey's sight. “Four o'clock. By the way, here's some soup if you're up for it.”

He revealed a bowl filled with still-steaming soup, a medley of spiral noodles and vegetables. “Did you... make this yourself?” Sorey asked.

“Who do you think I am?” Mikleo teased. “It's just chicken noodle, but I spiced it up so it's not boring. My mom always made it when I was sick. Well...” he paused. “When she was around more.”

Mikleo wasn't wrong—it was packed with more flavor than other soups Sorey had tried before. One bowl certainly wouldn't be enough. “You didn't have to,” Sorey insisted, “but thank you.”

“Yeah. I'm just glad to see you're alright. And sorry to tell you this,” Mikleo said, “but Heldalf gave us a quiz today.”

Sorey's heart plummeted. “No way.”

“To be honest, it was a bit tough for a quiz. He says you can make it up, though.”

“So you're saying I'll need to study.”

“Wouldn't hurt.” Mikleo paused in thought. “I might talk to Rose. She's better at explaining those tough equations.”

“We can ask her tomorrow. Oh, shoot!” Sorey realized then what day it was. “We missed practicing, too.”

“Sorey, you worry too much. If anything, I'd worry about how fast that soup is disappearing.”

“You're right.”

By now nothing but broth remained, and Sorey finished off what little remained of his bowl. Evidently Mikleo had cooked all of it up in Sorey's kitchen, and with some effort Sorey pulled himself out of bed and followed him out of the room. He hadn't quite recovered from the cough or fever yet and had to take his steps slowly, but managed to make his way to the kitchen without a helping hand. The scent of chicken broth and vegetables hung in the air still and Sorey helped himself to another bowl. Mikleo retrieved his backpack from in the living room and pulled out a packet of questions Sorey had missed during math, as well as his notebook.

Much like the afternoon Mikleo had been ill, Sorey spent it together studying what he had missed—thankfully, only one class in this instance, rather than his entire day. But with all the concentration math required, it might as well have been. His cough dwindling to a minor inconvenience, together they worked to make sense of the equations and homework Heldalf had unleashed on them.

* * *

Though a cough still occasionally battered his chest, the next morning brought with it immense improvement over the day before. He stepped into history with more of a spring in his step, and Rose, usually drained of energy so early in the morning, perked up as he walked by to his desk.

“Glad to see you up and about,” she said, turning around in her chair and resting folded arms atop it. “Feeling better?”

“Much better. Thank you.”

“Mikleo and Alisha looked so worried yesterday. Like you were down for the count.”

“Yeah,” Sorey sighed. “Sorry to worry you all. By the way—could we get a study group together? I heard that I missed a quiz.”

“That's a good idea. It was kind of a tough one.” Rose trailed off into her thoughts for a moment. “Actually, if you want, my place is free this weekend. We could get one together on Saturday night.”

“Are you sure? I don't mean to impose, or anything...”

“No worries! My dad loves company. And he makes really good mabo curry buns.”

“I've never had those, but I like the sound of them.”

“The way to your heart always was through your stomach,” Mikleo teased as he strolled to his desk at Sorey's side.

“Hey, you wanna come too?” Rose asked. “We could use all the help we can get.”

Their conversation was cut off by the class bell, but made plans to meet up that weekend for studying. As class got underway Sorey almost forgot how sore he still felt, becoming wrapped up in their section about fine art and music in the Roman period. His pencil barely left the paper as he scrawled out notes, wrapped up in the lore and artifacts, the people and architecture, all things he recognized from Mayvin's brief lessons growing up. As children he and Mikleo had pored over the bookshelf in his study, learning all about the different time periods and fascinated by the lore he bequeathed to them. Excitement stirred anew at the thought of graduating and learning more of what history had to offer in college—a path not far away now, with graduation just months ahead.

Orchestra brought its usual joy, even more so with Sorey back into the swing of things. His headache gone and thoughts clear, he found solace in the hum of tuning as it filled the room with a low drone, in the smile at Lailah's face as she conducted with both passion and grace. When it came time for his solo both he and Symonne played together, and though thrown off at first, Sorey managed to waltz through the passage without a hint of trouble. Sorey had the sneaking suspicion that soon she'd come to challenge him for the solo. It was only fair, given that many times before, Sorey had been granted the solos that came their way.

Lailah turned to their next tune, and nothing was said of the solo passage. Perhaps Symonne had gotten ahead of herself today, and assumed Sorey still suffered too much to play. This piece, thankfully, didn't call for another solo passage to contend for, and he let the music overtake him, the song gentle and slow like rolling waves in the sea.

Class ended on an uplifting note. Both he and Symonne packed up their music without a word to each other; a typical scene, but he had to wonder when, or if, she would speak up. Someone beside him cleared their throat, and he turned to see Lailah standing before him.

“Sorey,” she greeted. “Do you have a moment?”

“Sure. Just let me put my things away.”

Sorey placed his music and flute in their proper slots, and met Lailah in her office right outside the orchestra room. She gave him a smile, indicating it was nothing to worry over, closing the door remaining open behind him. “As you've no doubt gathered,” she began, “Symonne has expressed interest in playing the solo for Waltz of the Starlight.”

“I wondered if that was the case,” Sorey said.

“She wishes to challenge you. You understand this, yes?”

Sorey nodded. “I don't mind. It's her senior year as well. I think it's fair that she gets a try, if she wants.”

“You always were very kind of heart, Sorey.” Lailah moved to look over the calendar at her desk. She flipped the page to a couple months out, in April, when their final concert would be held. “We still have some time until the concert, but we should hold the challenge sooner, rather than later. That way, whoever ends up winning has plenty of time to perfect it.” She paused. “I realize you have the solo and ensemble contest to practice for, as well. Is that okay? I don't want to push too much onto you at once.”

“Thanks, but I'll be okay. I can manage some extra practice.”

Lailah gave him a warm, encouraging smile. “If you're truly all right with it, then let's set a date for the challenge. You'll both play for me separately, and I will judge you both with an unbiased opinion. For this solo, it's mostly about the mood and feeling behind it. That's what I'll be looking for, more so than technique. The latter can always be perfected.”

“And you can't perfect feeling?” Sorey asked. It seemed like an odd phrase—given enough time wrapped in the music, enough time spent understanding the mood and thought behind what the composer had in mind, it wasn't so far-fetched that a certain feeling could be ascertained.

“That's not quite what I'm saying. It's more the intent I'll be looking for. Are you playing this solo because it holds significance, or because you wish to be recognized? That's the sort of thought I'll be putting into it. It will be a difficult decision, since you're both skilled. But I know it means a lot to both of you.”

“I understand. Thank you, Miss Lailah.”

She tilted her head a bit in question. “Whatever for?”

“For helping me consider Symonne's feelings in this. I wasn't sure what she was after, exactly, but I understand now that she must be working hard.”

“I see. I'm glad I could help you understand her better.” Lailah paused. “She's got a good heart, but she struggles at times getting her emotions out. Perhaps this solo will help her understand her own feelings better.” She shook her head. “At any rate, I'll let Symonne know the plan. What date would work best for you?”

Together they planned out a day for the challenge, two weeks out but still before the solo and ensemble contest. Meaning he would have to devote more days after school for practice, which he didn't mind in the slightest. It meant as much to Symonne as it did to him; he simply wanted to let her have this chance to perform as well. He found Mikleo waiting outside the office as he left.

“Was that about the solo?” Mikleo guessed, strolling with him to the cafeteria.

“Symonne wanted to challenge me for it,” Sorey explained.

“I figured as much. You... didn't give it up, did you?”

Sorey shook his head. “We'll be competing for it in a few weeks.”

“You—you're what?” Mikleo halted slightly, taken aback by his answer. “So there's a chance you may lose it?”

“Yeah, but I don't mind. It means a lot to her, too, so I thought it was only fair to give her a chance.”

“Guess we'll be practicing more from now on, huh?” Mikleo laughed to himself. “Sorey, you always were...”

“Kind of heart?” Sorey finished, giving him a grin. “Miss Lailah said the same thing.”

“It's true,” a voice said behind them. Sorey started and glanced over his shoulder to find Rose. “But that was still a very Sorey thing to do.”

“Very Sorey, indeed,” another voice consented. Sorey turned to the other side to see Alisha as well.

“You both heard all of that?” asked Sorey, heat tickling his cheeks in embarrassment.

“Don't put all the burden on your shoulders!” Rose said, ruffling his hair. “You do that a lot. Let us help out a little too, okay?”

“Okay, I got it. Thank you, everyone.”

Rose broke forward to the front of the group, leading the way down to the lunch room with Alisha at her side. Mikleo shrugged and gave him a smile, his hand bumping into Sorey's before grabbing hold of it and bringing their fingers together, Sorey gripping his back in a gesture of gratitude.

 

Sorey watched as Mikleo moved expertly around the kitchen, cups and teaspoons transferring between hands, ingredients mixing into his bowl at a speed Sorey couldn't match at his level. He pondered whether there was rhyme or reason to the order he did things—did it matter whether you mixed in the butter before the sugar? At times Mikleo would catch his glance, a little smirk tugging at his lips. Sorey moved over to read over the cookbook, amazed at how different it read than his own. It was all so specific; sift out certain ingredients first, set them aside, work on something else in the meantime.

“It's mostly for you to look over,” Mikleo said, “if you want.”

“You mean you don't even need to read it?” As Sorey gazed up he realized Mikleo hadn't once needed to look over the book.

“That was one of the first recipes I learned. I've done it more times than I can count.” Mikleo paused to whip the ingredients together. “Baking is a chemistry; you've got to be pretty exact with things. There is some room for experimenting, but you have to be careful.”

“I might give this one a try, too.”

While some of the steps were pretty involved, it was all in wording that was easily understood; simple enough for a beginner to use, but one that could also be used as a springboard for experimentation. He snapped a picture on his phone and read over the steps again, cementing them into his mind and watching as Mikleo performed each one from memory.

Mikleo handed the bowl over to him, filled with mixed dough, explaining that he could spread dollops of dough onto the cookie sheet. With his help Sorey measured out the right amounts until the dough on the bowl's edges were all that remained. Sorey transferred them into the oven to bake, and helped wash off the tools. Maybe not much on his end, but it was something. He noticed his cough from the last week had dissipated by today, finally free of the unending strain on his throat—playing flute would be much easier now, and he could go back to playing his solo in orchestra.

Instead of his words, Sorey sought out Mikleo's hand and took it gently in his, bringing their fingers together. He was taken aback at first, but squeezed Sorey's hand and turned to face him. Sorey rested his forehead to Mikleo's, nerves still skittering at the thought of being so close to him, their noses pressed to each other's as if too nervous, too afraid to go further. Just as Mikleo shifted beneath him, the timer rang and jolted them both from the reverie. Foreheads bumped together and brought laughter from them both before Mikleo stepped away to remove the finished cookies from the oven.

A soft, yellow-white with the edges just turned golden, they were far more precise than Sorey's had turned out. Mikleo grabbed one and pulled it apart, one half for both of them, and eagerly Sorey tried a taste. Sweetness and texture blended perfectly together. Though it seemed to have been put together effortlessly, he knew this level of skill only came about with endless practice and refinement.

“I think she'll like them,” Sorey said as he finished his half.

“I would hope so,” Mikleo replied. “She's as much of a snackaholic as you.”

Sorey gently shoved his shoulder. “You are, too.”

“Not nearly as much!” Mikleo folded his arms, but grinned in a teasing manner. “I didn't eat a whole package of madeleines.”

“Those are so good. Can you make them, Mikleo?”

“Hmm. Well, I can't say I've tried.” He paused to ponder. “They shouldn't be too diffi—hey, don't change the subject!”

Sorey laughed as Mikleo jabbed him, catching his hand before it retreated and pressing their palms together, grappling with him until Mikleo gave in and chuckled as well. Mikleo gave his cheek a peck before stepping away to put the cookies in a container for later, Sorey touching the spot his lips had graced with a smile.

* * *

Seconds after Sorey pressed the doorbell, a set of barks rang out, Mikleo exchanging a wary gaze with him before the door swung open. Rose greeted them with a smile, and behind her, two small ginger puppies raced to the door.

“Hey, you made it!” she exclaimed, ushering them inside.

Mikleo stepped inside hesitantly, right at Sorey's back despite the container of cookies in hand. One of the dogs excitedly hopped up against Sorey's leg.

“Aww, how cute!” Sorey greeted, glancing over his shoulder to find Mikleo at a loss for what to do.

“Thanks!” Rose laughed. “Don't worry, they're harmless. Just excited to see new people.” She reached down to grab the dog pawing at Mikleo, and it craned itself around in her arms to lick her face. “This one here is Felice—no, stop that—and the guy down there is Talfryn.”

With Mikleo safe for now, Sorey crouched to pet behind Talfryn's ears. He stopped trying to leap up and sat obediently while Sorey doted on him.

“What's this ruckus?” a voice greeted, one Sorey didn't recognize. He gazed up to see a tall young man step into the entryway, the tips of his fair hair dyed green. With the way they splayed out in his face Sorey wondered if that made things hard to see. Sorey stood and offered his hand to shake, and when the man didn't take it, lowered it in embarrassment.

“Just some friends,” Rose explained. “This is my big bro, Dezel. He's back from college this weekend.”

Dezel nodded in greeting, and as closer Sorey looked closer, he realized his eyes gazed straight ahead, unfocused and unsearching. That would explain why the long bangs didn't block his vision—he couldn't even see to begin with.

“It's nice to meet you. I'm Sorey.”

“Mikleo.” The voice still came from behind him, but he soon stepped out to the side, careful of Talfryn at his feet.

“We're just having an impromptu study group. Good old math,” said Rose.

She let Felice down, and the two puppies crowded around Dezel's feet. He reached down to pet them both. “That Professor Heldalf still teaching?”

“Yep. He's as scary as you said.”

“Hmph. Well, just try to keep it down.”

“Can do. You have fun with the dogs.”

Dezel stood, pups trailing after as he strolled down the hallway and out of sight. Beside him Mikleo let out a breath. Rose realized that the two still stood there in their coats and took them hastily, Mikleo passing the treats to Sorey as he slipped off his own coat. Rose invited them into the living room where her things lay scattered on the coffee table: paper and pencils and a few stray candy wrappers. Sorey wasted no time pulling out his notebooks, Mikleo not far behind with his cookies in hand.

“What's this?” Rose asked as Mikleo set them on the table.

“We made some cookies,” Sorey explained, “as thanks for letting us over.”

“Aw, shucks, you didn't have to! I was gonna have my dad make his mabo curry buns.”

“Both sound fine to me.”

“Not at the same time, I hope,” Mikleo said before opening the lid on his cookies.

The scent of chocolate and freshly-baked dough permeated the room, each of them grabbing a cookie before getting to work on studying. Sorey flipped to the last notes he'd taken during math, and Rose searched her own to find where they had left off in class. She explained the formulas and terms as Sorey wrote them down diligently. Mikleo would add in his own thoughts on occasion, but mostly kept to himself as he checked his own notes and wrote things down as needed. Though they wouldn't let slip what had been on the quiz, Rose pointed out the formulas that held the most significance, that tended to help the most in figuring out problems.

Sorey vaguely recalled munching on cookies, and it wasn't until the container was almost empty that he realized how much they'd eaten. Nearly a dozen cookies between all of them.

Somewhere else in the house a door opened and closed, and Rose excused herself to greet whomever had entered. Her father, from the sound of it, their chatter soon fading into the background as Sorey gazed down over his notes again.

“Think you'll be ready?” said Mikleo. He moved a bit closer with Rose gone in the meantime.

“Yeah. Everything makes a lot more sense now. I might not ace it, but I think I have a good shot.”

Sorey marked his place in the notebook and closed it for now. He grabbed one of the few remaining cookies and broke it in half to share, and Mikleo took it with gratitude, snacking together in a comfortable silence. Rose poked her head into the living room then with a smile on her face.

“Hope you guys saved room,” she said. “We've still got those mabo curry buns coming.”

“I'll be fine,” Sorey said. “Was that your dad?”

“Yep. Work ran a little late.” She stepped over to the coffee table to clean up her study space a little. “He's really chill. I think you two would like him.”

While they awaited dinner they spoke of their plans once graduation hit. Rose still hadn't decided whether to actually pursue academia or focus more on sports; perhaps she could combine both, balance both a general studies major and athletics. The college in question for her already had a fencing club, one activity she greatly excelled at, and spoke eagerly about the sport. Truth be told, Sorey and Mikleo had considered it as well, and had to substitute play swords for a real epee, mimicking what they had seen before—an activity Mayvin didn't mind, so long as they took care not to cause too much damage.

Rose's father entered the room eventually with a piping hot plate in hand. Sorey could see where Dezel had gotten his height from. The three hurriedly removed their notes to make room for the plate, filled with a stack of meat buns. Still probably too hot to taste yet. The scent of curry, meat, and bread made Sorey almost dizzy with hunger.

“Thanks! Guys, this is my dad, Eguille,” Rose introduced. Her father gave a nod of the head in greeting.

Sorey and Mikleo introduced themselves, thanking him for the hospitality and food.

“It's my pleasure,” he said. “Hope you enjoy—this is a recipe by Rose herself. Well, the idea, anyway.”

“They look delicious,” Sorey spoke. “Maybe we could try them ourselves sometime. Right, Mikleo?”

“Just give me a recipe and I'll see what I can do.” Mikleo nudged him teasingly.

“All right, then,” said Eguille. “I'll see what I can find.”

He left them to enjoy their supper, and carefully, Sorey took a steaming bun in hand. Just like the name said, each bite was packed with curry spices and a plethora of ingredients; potatoes, carrots, chicken, flavorful and cooked perfectly. They'd definitely need the recipe for these.

“Pretty tasty, huh?” Rose said between bites.

“I'll say,” Mikleo chuckled. “Sorey can barely contain himself.”

Already half his bun was finished. “I can't help it. They're so good!”

“Guess I'll have to give 'em a shot sometime.”

Once he'd finished off his first, Sorey was quick to grab a second mabo curry bun, ignoring Mikleo's teasing about his bottomless stomach. Sorey mused over the long, long week, over the ups and downs, the frustration of his sickness and the comfort and friends. A lot of changes at once. But all in all, things were starting to look up again, glad to have all the support of friends for the struggles life threw his way.


	5. Nocturne

With more ground to cover now from Symonne's challenge, the practice room became Sorey's habitat once school let out. His dedication to the piece rivaled his focus on schoolwork, and perhaps any history project he may impose upon himself. The section spanned at least twenty measures long, a lengthy solo, but nothing he couldn't handle. Sorey took note of crescendos and legatos strung throughout it—soft and connected, conveying mood more so than technique.

Sorey brought the flute to his lips and began his run-through once more. Like with his duet, this tune was sure to become cemented in his mind until he was playing it in his dreams. Not that he minded. In both cases the songs invoked a gentle, although somber mood, and perhaps each would help the other in their own way. A knock at the door came at the end of his solo, Mikleo poking his head through when the music faded out.

“Mind if I join?” he asked.

“Huh? I'm not practicing the duet, if that's what you mean,” Sorey replied.

“I'm aware. I just thought it might help to have another section backing you up.”

Sorey let out a sound of realization. Having Mikleo's accompaniment, however soft, would help in getting the right feeling. “Yeah, that might help set the tone better.”

With both in agreement, Mikleo left to retrieve his cello. In the meantime Sorey practiced one last time on his own, making sure he knew where all the markings and difficult runs showed up. Soon enough, Mikleo was at his side with cello in hand, tuning themselves up until pitches matched exactly. Mikleo led him in on tenor notes ringing with vibrato that quickly cemented the mood. With a quiet breath Sorey entered, and much like their duet, notes twined together to paint images in Sorey's mind, each part moving independently but still holding it all together. Mikleo made sure to back away for Sorey to hear himself—and be heard—and Sorey soared over his notes with grace.

Partway through practice  they switched to their duet instead, given the impending date of the contest only three weeks out. For a moment Sorey's mind buzzed with the realization of how full his schedule had become—with Valentine's Day and a duel for the solo, as well as a quiz to make up for, he'd barely have time for homework. He only hoped no more illnesses came to trounce on their plans. Just like always when they played together, all sense of worry and time slipped away as the music filled the room in pure, rich notes; Sorey wouldn't have minded going all night at this rate. But life had other duties to attend to, and they packed away their things for the day.  
As Sorey trailed after Mikleo to the storage room the faint trills of a flute sounded farther down the hall, in another practice room. Symonne, no doubt. He placed his flute back into its case and smiled to himself, glad to hear her trying so hard for something she cared about. She tended to close herself off from others, putting on a cold front at times. Perhaps for her too, music was a means to cope with the worries weighing down on her shoulders.

Sorey wandered to where Mikleo was setting his cello back in its case. For him, hefting both around had proven to be a bit much, and so Mikleo had left the case back while they practiced, treating his cello with utmost care as he toted it back and forth.

“Feeling all right?” Mikleo asked as pulled the zipper closed on the case.

“Just worried about Symonne. I hope she's not pushing herself too hard.”

“I don't think she's any cause for concern. You're the one who's pushing himself.”

Sorey shook his head. “No, this is nothing. At least compared to what last week was like. If I can make it through that, then I'm sure I can handle whatever is left this month.”

“There's no reasoning with you, is there?” Mikleo sighed and folded his arms. “Then again, that's just what I've come to expect from you, Sorey.”

“Is it, now?” 

The lack of reasoning, or pushing himself too hard? Sorey crossed arms in thought as well, only to feel a nudge from Mikleo, a grin on his face dispelling any tension that had formed between them.

Sorey knew that look in his eyes. He batted off Mikleo's attempts to tickle his ribs, chuckling under his breath, until Sorey had caught both of his wrists. “Not this time,” Sorey teased, shifting to take hold of his hands instead. As Mikleo's fingertips met his palms, he took notice of the rough skin of his left hand. Curious, Sorey turned it over in his and pressed a thumb to his fingertips, finding callouses from all his years spent playing.

“That's really cool,” Sorey spoke. “It's like your skin formed a shield against the strings.”

“You geek out over the weirdest things sometimes,” Mikleo sighed.

“I'd say you're no different.”

“Birds of a feather and all, right?” Mikleo repeated the phrase Sorey had heard from him barely a week before, surprised that sometimes, he'd forgotten they were together now. With how close they were, it was almost as if they already had been; they just didn't have the words until now. Although, there were certain things Sorey was privy to now that hadn't presented themselves before. Mikleo seemed to catch onto his change in thought and tangled their fingers together, stepping closer until they stood barely a breath apart.

Sorey's heart leaped to his throat at the sensation of skin to his, to breath mixing with his that sent a skitter down his spine. With a tightened grip on Mikleo's hand he brought them together. Fingertips met his cheek before moving back to gently lace with his hair, and quietly he sighed at the give and take of the kiss, of all everything as it melded together.

Mikleo was the one to break away, and Sorey worried for a moment that he had moved too quickly, offering him a stammered apology. But Mikleo merely laughed under his breath. “What are you sorry about?”

“I thought... I was maybe moving too quick,” he explained, hand falling away. Mikleo brought his own back up until both hands were cupped below his ears.

“You're fine. We can do this sort of thing now.”

As if to prove his point, Mikleo brought him back in for a kiss. He was right—nothing to worry about. They were both on the same page, after all, and with a surge of confidence Sorey pressed back against him, his heart soaring at the thought of finally being together like this. The sound of footsteps had them breaking away hastily, and as Sorey fixed his appearance he caught sight of Symonne returning her flute to its case. At the very least her back was turned to them. If she had heard any part of their conversation—if she even knew they were in the room—she made no indication of it, leaving as quickly as she had appeared.

Sorey laughed and rubbed the back of his head. “I guess this isn't the best time for that.”

“No kidding. I don't even want to think about what she'd say,” Mikleo murmured, unsure of whether she was out of earshot.

“Let's just get home for now.”

They both retrieved coats and knapsacks from the practice room, and as they departed for Sorey's car, Mikleo entwined their fingers together. The rough pads of his fingertips ran against Sorey's skin, a symbol of sorts of his endurance in all things—in both Sorey's life, and his own.

* * *

Even on a personal level, Professor Heldalf proved to be an intimidating man, sending chills up Sorey's spine as he met with the professor after class for his make-up quiz. Sorey couldn't read the gaze in his eyes—whether he felt irritated or angry, or an expression to which he simply defaulted. As students shuffled out of the room, he met Rose and Alisha's eyes, both giving him a wave of encouragement. Mikleo patted his shoulder, his voice a murmur. “Good luck. I'll be practicing.”

Sorey thanked him as Mikleo continued on to meet the two waiting outside. Once the room had finally cleared out Heldalf slipped papers from a folder and handed them off to Sorey.

“Half an hour, Mister Shepherd,” Heldalf said. “I have a meeting to leave for after that.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you very much.”

Part of him worried that his politeness would come off as mocking, at least in Heldalf's eyes; but the gratitude he felt was sincere, thankful that he was even given the chance to make up the quiz. Sorey returned to his desk and began. The questions proved difficult, as the others had warned him, but unlike the last examination, Sorey found he didn't struggle nearly as much. No brick walls presented themselves to block his thoughts; had he not studied beforehand, Sorey was sure he would have been completely lost, forced to provide answers he was only partially confident in. Only a handful of questions tripped him up, but he pushed through anyway the best that he could and soon was handing the quiz off to Heldalf.

“You're quicker than I expected,” said Heldalf. “If you can wait, I should have time to check everything.”

“Please, go right ahead,” Sorey nodded. Back at his own desk Sorey packed away his things, at least some of the weight lifted off his shoulders. He had confidence that his grade would come back positive, but with Heldalf, you never knew; he was incredibly picky about answers, and had no room for error or gray area. You were right or wrong, no matter how much work you showed.

Sorey fiddled with his necklace to distract himself, warm memories of yesterday filling his mind. Practice with Mikleo, the feel of lips to his own as they became wrapped up in each other. Perhaps it was a bit too distracting, if the heat at his cheeks was any indication. Sorey pressed hands to them and tried to hide his embarrassment, even though no one was around to notice, Heldalf himself still wrapped up in grading the quiz. 

The sound of shuffling papers grabbed Sorey's attention and he turned his gaze to watch Heldalf slide the paper to the end of his desk. With backpack over his shoulders, Sorey approached him and looked over the paper marked with red ink.

Eighteen out of twenty correct. Sorey let out a quiet sigh of relief and looked over the quiz. As he'd expected, the two questions he'd struggled the most with were circled in red, the correct answers scrawled beneath his own.

“Satisfied with your result?” Heldalf asked, and Sorey handed back the paper.

“Yeah. I'm glad I studied for it.”

“I must say, Mister Shepherd, you've improved a bit since this term began.” Heldalf filed the quiz away and logged the result into his grade book. “If you keep on this track, you'll finish with a decent grade.”

“Really? That's good to hear.” Sorey fiddled with the strap on his backpack, never sure how to answer Heldalf's words. “If that's everything, I can take my leave.”

“Yes, it's time I left as well.”

With both in agreement, Sorey wasted no time leaving the room. Even in civil conversation, Heldalf never stirred pleasant feelings. His feet carried him through the halls to the music room, the hallway filled with the muted sounds of strings and flute, nearly bumping into Rose as he stepped into the storage room.

“Whoa there,” Rose laughed. “So how'd it go?”

“I passed!” Sorey announced, met with a high-five. “It went a lot better than I thought.”

“Glad to hear it. See, I knew you had it in you.” Sorey gave his shoulder a pat. “So that's one thing off your shoulders.”

“Yeah. Next up is practice.” He paused, noticing the trumpet in her hand. “You too?”

“Since everyone else is, I thought I might as well. Don't wanna be left in the dust. And you know, to be honest,” she mused, “I'm thinking... maybe I'll keep doing trumpet once I'm outta here.”

“You mean in college?” Sorey shuffled out of the way as someone stepped through the door, realizing he still hadn't gotten his own instrument. Rose trailed after him as he pulled the case from his slot.

“Yep.” Rose fiddled absently with the valves of her trumpet. “I don't really know where I wanna go with my life, but music's one thing that's helped me through a lot.”

“I know what you mean.” The pipes of Sorey's flute slid into place, one after the other until it sat assembled in his hand. “I have other plans for college, but I don't think I can just give up music.”

“Right? It's like a part of me. We'll have to see once college starts, but at least it's something.”

“Something is better than nothing. I know you'll figure it out.”

“Aww, geez, you're gonna make me blush.” Rose nudged him teasingly. “Anyway, go have fun with that solo, or whatever's on today's schedule.”

Rose parted ways with a grin and a surge of confidence that gave a bounce to her step. Even if it wasn't much, Sorey was glad to have provided at least some support for her, given her some direction for her future.

As he approached his own practice room the vibrato of Mikleo's cello resonated through the door, filling him with anticipation. His hand hovered at the doorknob, not wanting to interrupt the graceful notes quite yet. The tune brought warmth and a feeling of nostalgia—the tone of Mikleo's cello was much like his own voice, something he had grown used to through the years and would listen to whenever he had the chance. All too soon the music faded, and Sorey pushed open the door to the smile that greeted him within.

* * *

Sorey had read over the recipe at least a dozen times, making sure he had enough of each ingredient that was called for in Mikleo's recipe. Along with the tips he'd received, Sorey got to work with his second batch of cookies, sure to get things right this time. While he kept a close eye on amounts and which step came before what, Sorey tried to let himself relax and enjoy the baking, tried to put care in with each mix of ingredients. Nothing had to be perfect, he reminded himself; Mikleo would appreciate the sentiment behind it, even if his plans went awry.

As Mikleo had said, the recipe proved to be simple enough for him to make sense of. The more he went along, the more fun it proved to be until the batch went into the oven. The recipe called for some leeway on the time, and he set it for the least amount just in case it was enough. He could always add in a few extra minutes. In the meantime Sorey retrieved The Celestial Record from his room, having been some time since he'd done a read through. He had forgotten just how absorbing and involved the novel could be—almost like his time spent making music, Sorey traded all his worries for the story unfolding on the pages.

Parts of it felt similar to his own life, mostly in the personalities the main character and his friend portrayed. Friends since childhood, Sorey shared a connection to them. Perhaps that was why he and Mikleo had fallen for this book; they could relate on at least some level to the characters, given that their setting in a world of swords and sorcery didn't quite match up.

The oven timer cut short his thoughts and returned him to the other task at hand. A peek in the oven revealed the cookies had turned just the right shade of golden-brown, and quickly Sorey removed them. Though still too hot to try, at the very least they hadn't turned into an unappetizing, charred mess. They actually looked like cookies, like what Mikleo would make for him, the fresh scent of baked dough and chocolate filling the kitchen.

He bit into one after it had time to cool down, tasting exactly like what Mikleo baked. Curious, Sorey thought back over his ingredients and realized the addition of brown sugar had brought out different notes on his palate than the other batch he'd tried. Or perhaps they had just been too well-done to compare with. Either way it was a success in his eyes, and he set aside half a dozen that he wrapped together in a little red pouch. A text vibrated his phone and Sorey realized that Mikleo would be heading over soon, in the golden light before night overcame them. Sorey got to work cleaning off his supplies, just enough time left that his plans would be hidden from sight. If only Valentine's had been on the weekend this year—he could've used time to decompress before Mikleo came to visit.

Sorey was rushing to dry off bowls and spatulas when the doorbell announced Mikleo's arrival. He hid the satchel of cookies behind a plant at the table and hurried to let Mikleo in out of the snow that had started to descend. Just like that day of the snowball fight, Mikleo stood before him as golden snowfall gently tumbled to the ground, his halo of hair shining in the orange light of dusk. Inside Mikleo handed off a small box and pouch, his own presents that Sorey brought to the table while Mikleo dusted snow off his head and jacket.

Curious, Sorey inspected the box wrapped in blue and silver paper. Something inside rattled as he gently shook it, and quickly set it aside as Mikleo stepped before him. Sorey handed off his own little pouch, a bit embarrassed that cookies were all he could manage.

“I know it's not much,” said Sorey, “but I'm sure you'll like it, anyway.”

“Why don't we sit down first?” Mikleo suggested.

Sorey led the way over to his couch where he sat cross-legged, facing Mikleo as he set down his presents. At Mikleo's insistence he went for the box first. Beneath the wrappings lay a simple white box, and eagerly Sorey lifted the lid. His eyes widened at the pendant that sat within. Dangling from the chain was silver circle, stamped with a crest that identified the main character in The Celestial Record: the angled, abstract face of a dragon enclosed in a sphere, with a half-moon crescent at the top that was inlaid with a blue gem.

“Where did you find this?” Sorey breathed, hardly able to believe his eyes.

“I had to get it online,” Mikleo explained. “It was hard to track down, but I know how much that book means to you. To us.”

He wasn't wrong there. Sorey carefully pulled the necklace from the box, and with Mikleo's help soon it dangled from his neck, the cool metal of the chain tickling his skin. Suddenly Sorey felt inadequate with his gift of cookies. He owed Mikleo big for this treasure. Remembering the other gift still before him, Sorey tugged the ribbon free of the pouch and spread it open to find little cookies in the shape of a seashell. Madeleines.

“Hey, you did it!” Sorey said as he brought one out to try. Soft and cake-like in texture, there was a hint of orange flavor that lingered on his palate. Way better than the store-bought kind.

“They're really not that hard to make,” Mikleo spoke. “I'll probably bake them more often. They'd go good with tea or something.”

“Man, thank you so much. This is way more than I bargained for.”

“Well, I... had planned on giving it to you eventually, I just wasn't sure when. This seemed like an appropriate time.”

Sorey ran fingers along the pendant and slid it gently along the chain, gazing down at in awe that Mikleo had found it in the first place. At Sorey's insistence Mikleo opened his present, his eyes widening in surprise as well. Careful not to get crumbs everywhere, he took a bite and grinned.

“They're not burnt this time,” Sorey teased. “What do you think? Would I have a spot in your bakery?”

Mikleo laughed. “It's a good start. This is the recipe I gave you, isn't it?”

“Yep. Just baked this afternoon.”

“You learn fast.”

Mikleo finished off the cookie and pondered a few seconds. “For a beginner it really is good. There's a variety of taste, and you baked it just long enough to get the right texture.”

“Beginner's luck, I guess.”

“Hmm, maybe. You do have a knack for teaching yourself things.”

“It wasn't all me,” Sorey insisted. “Those would probably be in the trash if you hadn't helped out.”

“We should try to bake more often, then. I'll be doing it a lot more once college starts. Who knows—maybe you'll be on my level someday.”

He was encroaching into territory they often preferred not to discuss; the fact that come college, they would be heading down separate paths. Not that it meant the end of their times together, or their relationship. Far from it. But it meant quite some time away from the other, and considering they'd spent most of their life at the other's side, it would be a change that would be difficult to adjust to. But that was where their dreams lay, and neither had any intent of changing them for the sake of the other.

“Hey,” Sorey said, “why don't we go for a walk?”

“In the middle of a snowstorm?”

“It's not that bad. A little snow won't hurt.”

“The cold is more what I'm worried about. You're sure you're all better? I'd hate to have you out sick for another few days.”

“I'm all better! Really. Do you think I would've made those cookies otherwise?”

“Right.” Mikleo chuckled. “And once you've set your mind on something, it's a little hard to convince you otherwise.”

For the time being they set their treats aside on the table, grabbing coats and scarves for the trek outside. By now a sliver of sunlight remained, painting the sky in deep hues of blue and red that would soon give way to darkness. Street lamps provided ample lighting to go by, and snow still drifted by outside, twinkling like little stars. Only a light dusting of snowflakes covered the ground, but it still coated the world in an enchanting layer of white. The cold, thankfully, didn't penetrate far, and with Mikleo's hand in his, they started off on a walk around the block.

“So,” Sorey sighed. “College.”

“I know. You're still going for history and everything, right?” Mikleo's voice was muddled slightly by his scarf.

“I'd like to be a professor someday, I think. Like Mayvin. I thought about archaeology—since we always kind of wanted to travel the world—but I don't know. I like the thought of teaching better.”

“Who's to say you can't do a little traveling?” Mikleo squeezed his hand. “I'll still be around. We could go visit all kinds of ruins and museums.”

“That would be nice.” He paused as they rounded a corner, careful not to slip. “What about you? Baking?”

“Yes. I still want to try and have my own bakery. Who knows—maybe I'll be a world-famous chef someday.”

“That's not really you, though.”

“Not really,” Mikleo agreed. “Honestly, I'd be fine with just a little shop on the corner. I'm not in it for the attention. Although...” He paused for a moment in thought. “I don't want to give up cello, either. I think I'll still play. I have too many memories with music to just let it go.”

“Yeah, same here. But we can still play on the side in college.”

“You know what all this _means_ , though.”

A breeze grazed past them, making Sorey's head retreat into his scarf just a little to protect himself from the wind. But soon it let up and they relaxed. Still, he could feel Mikleo's hand tighten again, as if he feared Sorey might let him go otherwise.

“Until we've both graduated,” Sorey replied, “we probably won't see much of each other.”

“It'll take a while.”

“I know. But don't worry—I'm not letting you go.” He squeezed back to let Mikleo know, for sure, his feelings in the matter.

“We've made it through worse before. It'll just... take some getting used to.”

“And besides,” Sorey said, “it's not like we'll never see each other again.”

“Let's make that a goal, then.” They reached the divide between their houses again, pausing to face each other, still hand in hand. “To see each other through it all, until the end.”

“And afterwards, too.”

Mikleo nodded. “Now and forever.”

A smile flickered onto Mikleo's face that Sorey couldn't help but mirror, bringing their foreheads together. Snowflakes draped the world in white, and he found solace in the proximity to Mikleo, to the heat leaping between skin. With a tilt of his head Sorey closed the gap between them, avowing their promise on a kiss that drove away any sense of the cold winter world, if only for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I had a case of writer's block (even though this is the chapter I was most looking forward to). And yes, that's supposed to be the Shepherd's crest on the necklace.
> 
> Not sure when the next chapter will be, but hopefully soon!!


	6. Cadenza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I ended up being busy and had a case of writer's block. But it's getting to the final stretches in this fic, so updates should happen more frequently now. Or that's the plan, at least.

Juggling both orchestra and schoolwork had proven to be more challenging than Sorey had anticipated. His sleep schedule was the first to go, staying up late to study for tests to make up for the time he lost practicing after school. Even his usual fervor for history class had dwindled; he found himself wishing he could sleep in just a little longer. But such were the sacrifices, and he'd known full well the consequences going into things.

He wouldn't change anything, though, given the chance to turn back time. By the time school was underway he felt much more alert, and come orchestra he was at the peak of performance. Symonne continued to play alongside him during their cadenza—and though he couldn't discern every note from his own, couldn't take in her performance all at once, she had clearly dedicated just as much into the passage. Given that it was the last chance for either of them to nab a solo, it made sense that she'd put everything she had into a perfect performance.

Even if Symonne had a chance of winning the solo, he had already put so much time and effort into things, and it would be a waste to just throw in the towel. He'd never backed down from challenges before. Now was hardly the time to start. With only a few days remaining until the challenge, anticipation flitted inside him like butterflies, subtle worry that refused to let him go. And though it may have washed away the fatigue from late night study sessions, living with heightened anxiety was hardly any better. If anything, it may have been worse.

After school Mikleo pulled him aside to a less crowded section of the hallway. His hand at Sorey's shoulder helped to alleviate some of the nerves, and he gazed Sorey's way with brows pulled together in concern.

“You're nervous, aren't you,” Mikleo guessed. “About Symonne.”

Sorey laughed quietly. “What gave it away?”

“I can read you like a book, Sorey. Look, why don't we skip practice today? I think you're too wound up to undertake something like that right now.”

“I'll be fine,” Sorey assured him. “I can't quit now. It's two days away.”

“You've practiced plenty.” Mikleo's hand slipped away from his arm, the other coming to rest on his hip. “Trust me, you sound incredible as-is. You'll be fine.”

“But...”

“What can I say that will make you believe me?”

Sorey blinked at his words. He hadn't meant... “I believe you, Mikleo. Really. I guess I'd just feel better if I know I did everything I could.”

“And you have. Look, tomorrow you can practice all you want. Let's just take a break for today and get your mind on something else.”

“All right. If you think that'll help.”

“I know it will. C'mon, let's go.” Mikleo started off down the hall again, Sorey nearly bolting to catch up with him.

“Wait, what are we doing, then?”

Mikleo spared him a smirk over his shoulder. “You'll see.”

Back at their locker they pulled out coats and bags, Sorey retried books from the top shelf since Mikleo's reach fell just inches short. Sorey couldn't help but laugh under his breath as he handed them over, Mikleo deflecting his friendly teasing with a roll of his eyes, and once their belongings were in order Sorey followed behind as Mikleo led the way to his car. A warm front passing through had brought the temperature back above freezing, though not quite enough to forgo their coats. With the sun beating down overhead as well the snow was steadily melting away, Sorey gladly welcoming the warmer weather.

Sorey was surprised to find them pulling in to Mikleo's house—he had been expecting a side trip somewhere, to Hyland Café, or a park, anywhere else. But he didn't mind in the least, and trusted Mikeo enough to be kept in the dark to his plans. As Mikleo moved about his house Sorey found a seat on the couch, watching as he retrieved a small set of speakers and placed them at the wall. He fiddled around with his music player for a few moments until the sweeping rise and fall of violins filled the living room. Not overpowering, but enough to enjoy as background music. Sorey recognized the tune but couldn't quite put his finger on it. As he contemplated Mikleo held a hand out to him.

“'You... wanted to dance?” Sorey asked.

“Let me guess, you probably don't know how.”

“Well, no, not really. I've never had any reason to.” Still he took Mikleo's hand and was pulled to his feet.

“My mom taught me,” Mikleo explained. “Back when she was around more.”

Sorey smiled. “I can see that.”

He went to place a hand on Mikleo's shoulder only to be brushed aside. “No, wait. I go first. My hand goes here.” Mikleo's hand came to rest at his back, just beneath his shoulder blade. “Now you can put your arm on mine, and your hand goes over here.” Mikleo directed him to the proper position, Sorey's arm coming to lay atop his, hand resting just before his shoulder. As their free hands came clasped together Mikleo gave him a nod of approval. “Pretty easy, right?”

“So far, at least.”

“Don't worry. It's not rocket science. Now I'll lead with my left foot, and you step back on your right.”

Sorey knew that much, at least.

Mikleo led him through the rest of the steps—to the side, together, forward, until they moved together in a box-like formation. Sorey faltered in his step, accidentally going the opposite way, but Mikleo gently guided him back to where they should be. Slowly they went until Sorey finally got all their steps in order. He could already feel the smile pulling his lips up as they danced in a perfect square, a small grin coming to grace Mikleo. They managed to move in time with the music, thankfully a slower tempo, until Mikleo came to a stop.

“Ready to move around more?”

“Huh?” Sorey tilted his head. “You mean...”

“Here.” Mikleo faced them the other way and began their steps anew, slowly turning while they moved. Sorey's foot came to land on Mikleo's toes, both laughing it off as they made their way back into a steady rhythm. “Happens to everyone.”

“This is actually really fun,” Sorey said, excitement spreading through as they glided back and forth across the floor. Like everything else it became easier with practice, until they twisted and turned around the room with ease, locked into Mikleo's eyes as he led them about.

“See? I told you it would help.”

“What next?”

“Well,” Mikleo mused, “we could try a spin.”

“Let's do it.”

Mikleo chuckled at his enthusiasm. “All right, then. Just follow me.” He relaxed his arm and Sorey's went down along with it, leading the turn with their clasped hands. With Mikleo's lack of height Sorey had to duck under his arm to turn, laughing all the while as the room spun around before his eyes, until he returned to Mikleo's arms and back to their proper stance.

“Your height aside, pretty easy, isn't it?”

“Piece of cake. Why don't you spin too?”

“Because I'm leading.” He paused as the song came to a close. “Though I guess there's no harm in trying.”

They began another sweep of the floor as the music picked up again, much more exciting with the increase in tempo. This time around Sorey held his arm out and let Mikleo twirl beneath him, perfect form as Mikleo returned to his position and brought Sorey back into his grasp. As they danced around the room they alternated turns, soft smiles and laughter bubbling between them, and any trace of anxiety from earlier had dissipated. Sorey placed a kiss to his forehead and chuckled at Mikleo's surprise.

“What's that about?” Mikleo said, smiling nonetheless.

“It's a thank you.” The song came to a close all too soon, and though another had picked up, they remained in place. Sorey squeezed his hand and tucked his head against Mikleo's. “I feel much better now.”

He felt Mikleo nod against him. “Glad I could help.”

Sorey pulled away and began their dance anew, caught up in Mikleo's grace and the feel of him so close, glad to have someone as understanding as him in his life.

* * *

He'd done everything he could. At Mikleo's advice he was sure to be well rested the day of the challenge, trying his best to push his nerves aside as he went throughout the day. Come orchestra Symonne could barely glance his way—evidently she was fighting it off too, though Sorey had to wonder if she'd had the support of a helping hand like him. She wasn't exactly known for having friends. Perhaps he should have offered to practice together, but then again, she was the competition; would it have right to do so?

Orchestra passed almost too quickly, as though time were playing tricks to heighten his anxiety. Mikleo came to his side as Sorey placed his flute in its case and offered a pat to his shoulder. Rose and Alisha offered words of encouragement as well, everyone helping to perk up his mood as they tackled the rest of the school day together.

“By the way, everyone,” Alisha spoke during lunch, “I've finally come to a decision.”

“A decision?” Sorey paused for a moment. “Oh. You mean after graduation.”

“While I do enjoy the time I've had playing violin... I feel that it isn't what I want to focus on.”

“Aww, that's too bad,” Rose said. “ You could go really far with your talent.”

“I'm not giving up completely,” Alisha assured them. “It just won't be my focus. I'm far more interested in politics, and helping to shape the future.”

“I'd say you're the right person for that job,” Mikleo agreed.

“You think so?” Alisha curled strands of hair in her finger, as she always did when overcome with embarrassment. “Part of me regrets not having run for class president, and for putting so much focus on violin. But to be honest...” She smiled. “I don't think I would trade in all the fun I've had for anything.”

“See? Everything worked out fine in the end.” Rose brushed Alisha's shoulder with her knuckles. “Sometimes you just gotta try things out to know where you really stand.”

For all the times they had argued in the past, it was a nice change to see them being so civil.

Lunch came to a close and everyone made their way to their final class of the day. Any worries of performing were pushed to the back of his mind as he focused instead on the new concepts professor Heldalf threw their way in math. Ever since his study session with Rose, he had grown to understand math much better, utilizing all the study tips she had given him and passing homework with decent grades. He had the chance of actually coming to enjoy it before the end of the term. Time slipped away and soon the bell rang for dismissal, echoing in his ears as Sorey shoved all his notebooks into his bag.

“Good luck with your solo, Sorey,” Alisha spoke, giving him a smile.

“Yeah. You got this,” Rose agreed. “Knock 'em dead.”

“Please not literally,” Mikleo added.

“No, of course not,” Sorey said, a smile spreading on his face as well at all their words of encouragement. “But thanks, guys. I couldn't have gotten this far without you.”

As they stepped into the hall and made their way to the music room, Mikleo slipped his hand into Sorey's and squeezed. In return Sorey gave him a nod, keeping hold of him until they reached the storage area. Inside the room Symonne was already putting her flute together. She barely glanced his way except to check who had come inside.

“Good luck, Symonne,” Sorey said before getting his own instrument ready.

“Same to you, Shepherd.” It wasn't much, but Sorey appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

He didn't understand why she had to be so distant—it was just a solo, after all. Was there some other reason for her brusqueness? With her piece spoken she waltzed past them and out the door.

“She could stand to be less prickly all the time,” Mikleo murmured. “Maybe that's why it's so hard for her to make friends.”

Sorey closed the lid on his case. “You know, I almost feel sorry for her. She seems like she's a good person, under all of that.”

“I don't know, Sorey. I doubt she'll just be your friend because you ask.”

“Maybe that's what she needs. Is just someone to be her friend.”

Mikleo sighed. “You go right ahead with that.”

Any attempts at friendship would have to wait—it was finally time. The last two weeks had gone by in a flash, and now he stood outside Lailah's office, waiting for his turn to play. Now that he had a chance to listen to her without interruption, he could tell she had poured tremendous effort into the part. She played with soul, and her technique matched up with it, performing runs with ease and adding in crescendos where Sorey hadn't thought to before. Even though they had read off the same part, both had interpreted it a different way—not a bad thing, necessarily, but it would certainly affect Lailah's judgment of it. She had to consider how it fit in with the rest of the band as well as the piece itself. Did it stand out too much? Did it meld in just right with the rest of the music?

While he'd been lost in thought, the door opened and Symonne stepped out, Lailah right on her heels.

“Sorey?” Lailah spoke, her voice soft and gentle as ever, helping to soothe his nerves. “If you're ready, come on in.”

One last pat to his shoulder from Mikleo, and he stepped into her office.

“How are you doing today?” Lailah continued, closing the door behind him.

“I'm pretty good, thanks. And yourself?”

“Oh, I'm very well, thank you. If you're all tuned up, we can begin whenever you like.”

“Actually, I could use a quick tuning.”

Lailah brought out the tuner and placed it on Sorey's stand. With a few quick notes and adjustments to his mouthpiece, Sorey was ready, making sure his music was spread out to the section he needed before he began. He inhaled a deep breath and let the notes flow from his flute, letting himself ride on the mood he always fell into while practicing the part. Everything moved along more smoothly than he could have imagined; each change in volume, all the details he had penciled in. He really had no reason to be so nervous—he was just playing as he usually did, pretending that everyone was in the room beside him. Mikleo, Alisha, and Rose. Towards the end he let his eyes close, knowing the passage well enough to play without needing to look.

The last note rang out sweet and clear with a vibrato on the tail end. Silence overwhelmed him for a brief moment, but as he relaxed in his chair everything fell back into place.

“Thank you, Sorey,” Lailah said. “That was wonderful. I can tell you've worked quite a bit on it.”

“Oh it's nothing.” Sorey gave her a smile. “I have fun with it, at least. That's what matters, right?”

“Absolutely. Now, if you'll wait outside for a little bit, I'll have the results soon. This is a very difficult decision.”

“Don't worry about it. Take your time.”

As Sorey stepped out into the hall he found Mikleo waiting, and together they stepped into the storage room for Sorey to put his flute away.

“Nicely done,” Mikleo said, giving him a pat on the back. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine.” Sorey placed the music in his slot and began packing away his things. “Nothing better I could have done.”

With instrument and music tucked away they found a seat in the hall as they awaited the results. Sorey wanted to ask where Symonne had gone, to compliment her on her performance, but soon found himself too distracted by conversation to mention her. Chatting over nothing of concern—movies they'd just seen, plans for the coming weekend, perhaps a date somewhere that weekend? Sorey began fiddling with a hem on his jacket, but kept the conversation going the best he could. A hand came to rest on his knee, met with a smile from Mikleo. Sorey mirrored it with a nod and smoothed out his jacket. Everything would work out.

Finally Lailah's door cracked open and she glanced Sorey's way. It didn't take long for Symonne to emerge from the band room, and both stepped into her office.

“First of all, thank you both for such lovely performances,” said Lailah. “It hurts only having to pick one of you, but that's the nature of the piece. I can tell both of you put a lot of work into this. Please understand that this was a very difficult decision, and I'm not picking favorites or anything of the sort.” She took a breath and turned to Symonne. “Miss Symonne, I have decided that you are the best fit for this solo.”

For a brief moment Sorey's heart plunged into his stomach.

Lailah turned to him next. “I'm sorry, Sorey. I know how dedicated you are to the flute, and to this piece.”

“It's alright,” Sorey spoke. “I knew going into this that I had a chance of losing. But I don't mind. I've had solos before—it seemed only fair to let Symonne have a try, too. So, congratulations, Symonne. You earned it.”

“Th-thank you.” Symonne bowed her head in a show of gratitude. “I didn't... expect anything like this to happen.”

“You're both free to go, then, if there's nothing else to say.” Lailah pulled the door open and let them both out into the hall.

Despite his loss Sorey kept a smile on his face, proud of himself for trying. Mikleo glanced after Symonne before facing Sorey in anticipation.

“Well,” Sorey sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn't get the part.”

Silence as the words registered.

“No way,” Mikleo breathed. “Sorey, are you serious?”

“It's okay! I don't mind. I'm happy to let her have a chance at this. Don't worry, I'm not mad or sad or anything.”

“But that was your last chance at a big solo. You're sure about this?”

“Hey, it's not like I don't have anything else to look forward to. We still have our duet and all. I think we have a fair chance at coming out on top there.”

Mikleo folded his arms. “Why her, though? You clearly had the better performance.”

“She might have had the right mood Lailah was looking for. I really don't mind it.”

“Even with all the work you put into it? You were so nervous a few days ago. Now it's fine?”

“Look.” Sorey sighed. “I'm disappointed I didn't get it, yes. Maybe I was so nervous it affected my playing. Who knows. But it's not like the end of the world. I still have things to look forward to. I mean... we can't always have everything we want.”

“I...” Mikleo paused, thinking over his words for a moment. “You're right. I just saw how much anxiety it had been giving you, and worried you might beat yourself up if you lost.”

“Thanks, but you don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine.”

Mikleo held his gaze before looking away. “Okay. I was just looking forward to playing that part with you.”

“Oh.” Sorey felt his shoulders sink. He hadn't even thought about that. Part of him felt cruel now, for not taking that into consideration. “Hey, we can still play that if you want. I can help you practice it.”

“Let's just focus on our duet for now. We need to get back into the swing of things.”

“Shoot, you're right. How far away is it now?” Sorey folded his arms as he mused. Two weeks? Three?

“Sorey.” Mikleo sighed. “It's next weekend.”

“Already? Gosh, I'm sorry, I thought it was still a while away. We'd better get moving, then.”

“Tomorrow. I think for now we need to just get home. Why don't I bake us something? As a... consolation prize, I guess.”

Mikleo's sweets never failed to perk him up. “Would you? That would be really nice.”

Sorey slipped his coat and backpack on, heading out together with Mikleo, hand-in-hand as always. In spite of everything, despite the losses, he was glad to have had the experience and have Mikleo at his side.

Everything would work out, one way or another.


	7. Grandioso

Mikleo drew his bow along the strings in one final resonating note, both he and Sorey cutting off the song with a nod of the head. Eyes met in the silence that followed, and together they relaxed, Mikleo resting the bow across his lap to stretch out his fingers. With the burden of the solo now off his shoulders, Sorey was able to focus more intently on the song that mattered to him most. In some ways losing out on it was better off for him; while he did enjoy the tune, pulling double duty practicing both solo and duet had proven a bit taxing. Especially on his schedule.

A knock on the door caught Sorey's attention. Through the glass he noticed Rose peering in, and once she caught his eye, she stepped inside.

“Hi, Rose,” Sorey greeted. “Everything okay?”

“Peachy. We were wondering if we could hear you guys before the big day.” As Rose stepped inside Alisha trailed after her and closed the door behind them.

“Haven't you heard it a dozen times already?” Mikleo teased.

“Yeah, though the _door_. That's totally different.”

“It's only fair. I mean, we listened to Alisha, too.” Sorey turned to Mikleo. “You just didn't want to play anymore today, did you?”

Mikleo's hands stilled and he took up his bow. “I don't mind one more run-through. It'd be a good idea to play at least once before an audience.”

“Oh, that's true. I'm not sure how much of a crowd we'll get, though.”

“Sorry we don't have much for seating.”

“We'll be fine, don't worry,” Alisha said. “Go ahead whenever you'd like.”

Sorey placed the flute to his lips, and with a breath, music filled the room, the somber notes of Mikleo's cello balancing out the warm, bright timbre of Sorey's flute like always. With all of their practice the notes flowed out perfectly—working in harmony, branching out to individual melodies, back and forth in equal give and take. Chills ran up Sorey's spine as they reached his favorite part; from a soft _piano_ to a crescendo, louder and louder but never overpowering, both melodies lilting together as they reached the final stretch of the piece. At the very end Sorey broke away to a sustained note as Mikleo's notes coasted over him, until he finally joined Sorey in their final note together.

Applause met them instead of silence, the girls gazing at them with eyes lit up by fascination and awe.

“I can't even believe it,” Rose said. “It's amazing how much better you sound in here. Without all the doors and walls to block stuff out.”

“Don't forget, it's a pretty enclosed space. It'll sound different when we move into a bigger room,” Mikleo replied. “The power of acoustics.”

“Even so, it sounded beautiful,” Alisha spoke. “I can hardly wait for the real thing.”

Sorey glanced over to Mikleo. “Yeah. The days are just flying by. By the way, how's your solo going, Alisha?”

“Hmm? It's fine. Why do you ask?”

“Just making sure. You sounded so good, I'd hate for you to lose your nerve now.”

“She's still working away,” Rose said. “Sometimes I almost have to drag her out of there.”

“Rose...” Alisha glanced her way, twirling hair in embarrassment. “Thank you, but don't worry about me. This is my last big performance, so I'm working hard to make sure it's my best.”

“Speaking of solos, I can't believe Symonne won out over you, Sorey.”

“It's fine. I'm not angry or anything,” Sorey assured her. “Honestly, it might have been for the better. Now I don't have to worry about that too, in addition to everything else.”

“That maybe true, but it hardly seems fair. I mean, you're first chair. So shouldn't you have dibs on it?”

“I'm not so sure about that.” Sorey rubbed the back of his head. “I've had solos before in band. Isn't it only fair to let her have a try, too?” He'd explained this so many times to people it was starting to get old. “Besides, Lailah had to give an unbiased result.”

“That's very kind of you, Sorey,” said Alisha.

“Really? I was just being fair.”

“Well, at least you've got this duet to keep you occupied.” Rose headed for the door. “Anyway, we should let you guys get back to practicing. Thanks for letting us listen—you sound great!”

Sorey waved good-bye. “See you all Saturday.”

Three days left. Time was really ticking down now, their window of opportunity to practice growing smaller and smaller. Sorey wondered, though, if they really needed the extra practice; as Rose and Alisha had proven, their performance was already top-notch. Perhaps a few days of rest before the main event would be better than trying to cram in practice sessions.

Mikleo agreed to his proposal, and instead they focused on coursework the last few days of the week—better to get a head start on things, since Saturday would be nothing but the contest from sunup to sundown. Falling behind again was the last thing Sorey wanted. 

Mayvin's study provided plenty of space to spread out and do assignments, empty what with his night class to teach on Thursdays. Not to mention the shelf lined with books helped quite a bit when focusing on history homework. They holed up in Sorey's house the rest of the week after school each day, and Sorey couldn't help feel the slightest bit nervous. Was it really okay to take a break from practicing, with the competition so close? Maybe they should have practiced after all. Maybe they should have—

“Sorey, did you hear me?” Mikleo's voice pulled Sorey back to reality, back to Mayvin's study.

“I'm sorry,” Sorey sighed. “I'm a little nervous, I guess.”

“Don't be. Don't be sorry, I mean.”

“Are you nervous too, Mikleo?”

He nodded. “I know I probably don't show it, but my insides are all twisted around.”

“Maybe it would've been a good idea to practice instead.”

“No. I think it would've just made us worse. The best we can do right now is try to stay calm. And, I mean, we've been working hard at this. I think once we get there tomorrow, and get settled in, we'll feel a lot better.”

“Hard to believe it's already time.” Sorey set his pencil down and leaned back onto the ground. They had forgone chairs for the floor in Mayvin's study, the plush carpet running smooth underneath him. Sorey stared up at the wooden grains of the ceiling painted gold in the study's light, following the lines with his eyes. “I'm glad things worked out this year.”

“No kidding. We sure busted our butts.”

Sorey gently tugged on Mikleo's arm, still sitting around with notebook and pencil in his lap. Mikleo glanced his way, confused as Sorey continued to try and tug him over. He'd only just placed his notebook back on the floor when Sorey managed to pull him down completely against him, Mikleo's head landing on his chest. Mikleo's shoulders shook with laughter and he tried to sit back up. But Sorey wrapped an arm around him and held him in place, Mikleo eventually giving up and falling still. He folded arms over Sorey's chest and rested his head atop them.

“Alright, you got me,” Mikleo spoke. “What was that all for?”

“Nothing.” Sorey grinned.

Mikleo raised a brow. “Really now.”

He shifted and moved up until he lined up with Sorey's face, towering over him for only a moment before leaning down to kiss him softly. Sorey carded fingers up through his hair, effectively keeping him in place as he pressed back against Mikleo's lips. They hadn't had many opportunities to be like this, despite being together so much of the time. He would miss this once college came around. Part of him worried that the span of time and space would cause their bond to deteriorate—they'd been together ever since he could remember. Sorey could handle being apart for however long life decreed; at least, he was pretty certain he could.

It would be rough on them, that was for sure, but their bond was strong enough that they could withstand the distance.

Mikleo pulled away. “What's wrong?”

“It's nothing.” Sorey tried to bring him back in, only a breath of a kiss gracing his lips before Mikleo parted again.

“No it's not. Are you still worried about tomorrow?”

“Of course I am. But... I'm also worried about after, I guess.”

A pause as Mikleo caught onto his train of thought. “You mean college again.”

Sorey slid out from beneath him and sat back upright. “Yeah. Do you think... we'll be okay?”

“I told you already, didn't I? We'll make it work.” Mikleo held out his pinky, and with a smile, Sorey wrapped his own around it. “I promise.”

* * *

A buzz from Sorey's phone stirred him from sleep, feeling around until he finally caught it in his hand. Already seven-thirty am. Mikleo had sent him a text, _Pick u up at 8_ , and with a sigh Sorey pushed aside his covers. He definitely wasn't ready to be awake yet. In a stupor he prepared everything for the day and dressed in his finest clothes for the performance: a black button-down with a blue tie at his neck, and for good luck, he slid Mikleo's necklace on and hid it beneath his shirt, unknown to anyone but himself. In his bag he packed away _The Celestial Record_ among his other odds and ends. With their performance at one that afternoon, they would be left with the rest of the time to relax until the bus returned home.

By five minutes til eight Sorey had everything ready at the front door. All their music and instruments would be loaded up at the school—a bit chilly with it still morning, but the weather had held out, and a day of sunshine was in the forecast. Hopefully it would be sunny skies for them as well. Mayvin sat at the table with the morning paper, wishing Sorey good luck as he awaited Mikleo. Right on time the doorbell rang, and Sorey stepped outside into a brisk dawn that tinged the sky soft gold and blue. The crisp air and Mikleo's smile helped fend off fatigue from the early morning. Mikleo's car was already warm and cozy when he stepped inside, and together they rode off to the school.

A group of other students had arrived earlier to pack up instruments, already nearly done by the time Sorey and Mikleo had arrived. Mikleo checked to make sure their music was in its folder before toting it with him onto the bus, along with a blanket he'd snagged from his car. They'd need it, at least for the trip there; with poor heating in the bus it was likely to stay chilly for the ride up to the hosting school. They found Rose seated in the back with Alisha resting against her shoulder, both perking up when they caught sight of Sorey strolling down the aisle.

“Morning,” Rose greeted. “We wondered when you guys would show up.”

“Did you help pack up the instruments?” Sorey said as he let Mikleo take his seat first, sliding in after him.

“Yup. This one got a little tuckered out.” Rose nudged her shoulder. “Better wake up soon. You perform at ten, right?”

Alisha nodded as she rested back against Rose. “Once we get there I'll be fine.”

“You must've stayed up late doing homework. I told you to get to bed early.”

“It was a big assignment,” Alisha countered. “I wanted to get a head start.”

“Sorey still looks a little tired, too,” Rose teased. “Not really a morning person, are you?”

“Not this early. But I'm okay.”

Mikleo unfurled the blanket and Sorey settled in next to him, watching as Mikleo pulled two packaged muffins from his knapsack. “Here. Since you probably didn't have time for breakfast.”

“Oh, you're right,” Sorey laughed as he took one of them. “Thanks. This'll help a lot.”

From his stockpile at home, no doubt. He always kept Sorey's favorite treats handy at home, and Sorey was eternally grateful for his thoughtfulness. Mikleo tended to show his care for others in actions rather than words—as Sorey had seen already, with the drive, the blanket, the breakfast. He'd have to come up with something in return.

It didn't take much longer for the bus to fill up with music students and set off. By then Sorey had already finished his muffin and rested against Mikleo for a quick nap—they'd be there within half an hour, giving them plenty of time to finish resting up for the event. Excitement flared within and threatened to sabotage his sleep, and Sorey took hold of Mikleo's hand to help assuage the nerves.

It must have worked, for Sorey soon found himself nudged awake by Mikleo's shoulder. Time really had passed in a blink. As he peered out the window they began pulling in to the school, and soon everything was a whir as students departed the bus to tote instruments inside. With Rose's help Mikleo brought his cello inside, Sorey right behind them with Alisha.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Absolutely.” Alisha nodded for emphasis. “And surprisingly, not anxious at all. I think I'm more excited than anything.”

“That's better than being nervous, trust me.”

“Sorey, you aren't nervous, are you?”

“A little bit, I guess. This is my last chance at a big performance. I'm just hoping I don't screw something up.”

“I don't think you have anything to worry about. You and Mikleo... sound so natural together. You clearly know how to play, but you also have this way of conveying, I don't know, some sort of feeling. As if I can feel your love for music whenever you play.”

“Really? I just do what comes naturally.” He'd never thought much about it before. Perhaps it came from years of experience.

“And you're exceptional at it.”

“You are too, Alisha.”

She hid a laugh behind her hand. “That's what everyone says. But I suppose it's like you said. I just let things come together naturally, like the instrument is a part of me.”

“Right, that's what I mean. Sometimes it doesn't even feel like you're playing when you get in the mood.” Sorey rubbed his neck. “Am I making sense?”

“Yes, you are. Don't worry.”

They reached the gymnasium where their instruments would be stored, and where everyone could relax when not at a performance. Students from other schools had arrived as well, a few already tuning, and soon the room would be filled with trills and drawn-out notes, a cacophony of tunes and pitches.

Rose and Mikleo finally set his cello's case down against the wall. “Man, no wonder you need help lugging that thing around,” she said.

“It's not so bad when it's just down the hall,” Mikleo replied. “It's the long distances that get you.”

Sorey found his flute among the cases being brought inside and set it next to Mikleo's. It was already nine o'clock by now, and Alisha began tuning up and practicing a few sections. She had opted for a brown dress that matched the warm hue of her violin, pearls at her throat and strung across her hair like stars.

Soon she headed for the room where she would perform, Sorey and the others right behind her. En route they passed by concessions, and for a moment, Sorey halted in his step. His stomach still felt empty. Just when he found the menu board Mikleo had grabbed his hand and tugged him along gently. Afterwards, for sure. They followed signs posted until they reached their destination, the school library, everyone wishing Alisha good luck as she lined up by other performers.

When the current performance had ended, they snuck into the library to grab seats, listening to the students before hand. It ranged widely from amateurs to prodigies, clarinets to percussion. Sorey became fascinated with a marimba player utilizing four mallets instead of the usual two, producing a flawless tune that Sorey himself was sure he never could manage. The wooden keys rang out warm as the mallets struck them, almost like a music box, but lacking the crisp chime of bells. Applause erupted when the musician finished. He would definitely earn a division one, the best of the best.

Performances ran late, with Alisha walking in nearly ten minutes past her scheduled time. That happened at times; musicians were allowed a five-minute piece, tops, but the schedules didn't exactly allow a lot of time for setup or teardown. But at least things were only slightly out of sync. With any luck, it would all come to balance back out. Alisha strolled in with violin and sheet music, her dress bouncing with each step. Once everything was in place she introduced herself and her piece to the judges. A smile on her face and the violin tucked under her chin, Alisha drew her bow across the strings.

Somehow, she had improved since the last time they'd heard her. The notes sang bright and clear, a hint of vibrato seeping through that felt perfectly in place. As she melded more and more into the music her expressions changed, coloring the notes with different moods, her body swaying as she drew notes from the violin. The higher pitches sent a shiver down Sorey's spine—as always when he became invested in a song. He found himself nearly on the edge of his seat, listening as intently as he could for each subtle change in volume and pitch.

Her final note filled the room, and for a few moments, silence as everyone took in the sound. With their trance broken applause rang out as fervent as it had been earlier. Alisha gave a sweeping bow before hurrying off, not wanting her embarrassment to show. Sorey followed her out with Rose and Mikleo at his side. Out in the hall Rose wrapped her up in a hug, jolting Alisha in surprise.

“Careful,” Alisha warned, moving her violin so as to not dig into Rose.

“Alisha. That was incredible.” Rose pulled away and held her at arm's length. “Easily the best I've heard you play.”

“I agree,” Mikleo spoke. “Those runs were flawless. And your vibrato sounded so natural.”

“Gosh, thank you.” Alisha giggled quietly, her face a shade of pink as she became overwhelmed with the reception. “I'm just... doing what I always do.”

Rose let her ams fall to her side.“It's too bad Maltran couldn't have been there. Even _she_ would've been proud of it.”

“Yes, it's a shame.” Alisha sighed. “But she's off on a tour right now, so she couldn't exactly spare the time to watch. But I'll be sure to give her an extra performance.”

“Good.” Rose turned to Sorey and Mikleo. “So you guys are next. What time are you at, again?”

“It's at one,” Sorey said, “but first, could we get a snack, or something? I'm starving.”

“Of course you are,” Mikleo teased. “Okay, let's grab some food.”

Alisha excused herself to put her violin away, leaving Rose with them. Together they found their way back to concessions where Sorey loaded up on snacks—probably not the best idea when he'd be playing a flute, but he was too hungry to care. He needed _something_ to keep him going. With little cakes and candy bars in hand he returned to the gymnasium alongside the others. Three hours left until they performed. Sorey was surprised to find his anxiety hadn't started to climb, but perhaps being among all his friends, among everything helped give his mind something to focus on. Instead of dwelling on whether he'd mess up that one particular spot.

Sorey pulled out _The Celestial Record_ from his bag, quickly losing himself in the story, the clamor of the gymnasium fading away to white noise. Beside him Mikleo took a seat, absorbed in a book as well he had brought. Though he'd read the story dozens of times he still found himself turning page after page in anticipation. He'd just started on another chapter when Alisha joined them, pulling his focus away for a moment.

“Is that... _The Celestial Record_?” Alisha asked, craning her neck to get a glance at the cover.

“Yeah! Wait, have you read it too?” Sorey slid his bookmark in place, tattered and beaten from many years of use.

“Yes, and it's one of my favorites.” She paused to laugh to herself. “I know, it probably seems strange for a girl like me to read it.”

“Not at all. It's our favorite book, too.” Sorey nodded in Mikleo's direction.

“He practically sleeps with it,” Mikleo teased.

“So do you.”

“Hey, that was one time.”

Time passed easily as they became absorbed in discussing the novel, Sorey overjoyed to have found another person who shared their interest. He almost forgot to keep an eye on the time until his eyes wandered to the clock, finding it was already eleven o'clock, and wrapped up their discussion to get extra practice in before it came time to perform. It would be difficult to hear exact notes and pitches with the quiet din echoing in the room, but it was soft enough that it didn't overpower everything else. Sorey could still make out the general tune as he played through the piece and found he no longer faced any difficulty with the parts; he'd practiced enough to finally master the section that had always given him so much trouble.

Meanwhile Mikleo was lost in his own world, poring over the notes he'd penciled in, trying to play with the music resting at his side. Sorey put down his flute and picked up the sheet to hold out before Mikleo, meeting his surprised glance with a smile.

“Need some help?” Sorey quipped.

“Thanks.” Mikleo laughed under his breath, a touch embarrassed, before starting on his music.

The lower pitch made it difficult to hear him over the ruckus of the gym, but Mikleo could probably hear it much better than him, feel the notes vibrate along the strings and his bow. On occasion his eyes would flicker up to Sorey and hold his gaze for a brief moment. A smile and a shake of Mikleo's head broke him away before he returned his focus to the music. Alisha and Rose trailed over to listen, offering to hold up their music for them to both play. Sorey happily took them up on the offer and retrieved his flute before taking a seat at Mikleo's side.

He wished this day could last for as long as he wanted, wished he could stay wrapped up in music and the company of close friends, not having to worry about the impending future. Already the day was halfway done, and in the hour remaining before they performed, Sorey went to grab more snacks to appease his appetite.

Or so he had planned before Mikleo gripped his arm.

“Don't,” he ordered. “You'll get sick from all those snacks.”

“I barely had anything,” Sorey protested. “Fine. How about when we're done? You're probably getting hungry too, right? We can all get something for lunch.”

“That's... fine. Sorry. I think I'm just a little on edge.”

“Hey, don't worry about it.” Sorey gave him a pat on the back. “For some reason, I'm not nervous at all. I thought I'd be terrible once today came.”

“We'll be fine. Right?” Mikleo gazed his way, conflicted for once.

It was rare to see him doubt himself. Sorey drew a calming hand through his hair and snuck a kiss to his temple. “Yeah. We'll make it work. We promised, remember?”

“But that was...”

“I know, I know. Totally different. Just trying to cheer you up.”

Mikleo shook his head. “No, I appreciate it. I do feel a little better.”

“It's not like you to be nervous. Just try and find Rose and Alisha when we perform, and look at them. Well, when you're not playing. Don't actually look at them while—”

“It's okay, I know what you mean,” Mikleo laughed.

With only a few words Mikleo had cheered up already, his face brightening as he returned to his usual self. It was time. Both gathered instruments and music, Rose toting Mikleo's sheets what with his hands tied up from carrying his cello, making their way through the halls to their performance. By now the butterflies had returned and anxiety crept up along Sorey—he was glad Mikleo had talked him out of those extra snacks. They made it to the classroom where they would perform with plenty of time to spare. All their hard work was about to pay off at last. Sorey kept his mind occupied elsewhere, on how sharp Mikleo looked with his close-fitting cardigan and shirt, how clear his eyes shone as he gazed around the hall, the way he held tight to his cello as though afraid he would drop it otherwise.

“Hey, Mikleo.” Sorey drew his attention and slipped the necklace from beneath his collar. “Good luck.”

Mikleo flashed him a grin before Sorey tucked it back into place, a private moment only they could share.

Caught up in their wordless conversation, Sorey didn't even notice the passage of time until their turn had arrived. He held the door open for Mikleo to carry his cello through, preparing the music stands and sheets as Mikleo set his cello in place. Sorey recognized faces in the audience—fellow orchestra members, along with Rose and Alisha—quite a number of people, more so than he had been expecting. A thumbs up from both of the girls brought a smile to Sorey's face. Once everything was in place Sorey took a breath and turned to the judges.

“Good afternoon,” he spoke. “I'm Sorey Shepherd, and this is Mikleo Herald. Today we will be performing _The Journey_ by Maotelus Glenwood. Please enjoy.”

The flute met Sorey's lips, and on his breath of a cue, music flowed forth from them both. The acoustics of the room changed his perception of sound; much larger than what they had practiced in, the notes traveled farther and just a touch softer than he had grown used to. For all their anxieties nothing showed of it as they let the music come and pass, as bow met strings and breath flowed along the pipes of Sorey's flute. The notes painted imagery of rolling hills and skies of purest blue, and Sorey let his flute ride along the prolonged notes of Mikleo's cello, so caught up in it all that his fears of mistakes, of failure, disappeared into thin air. They could do this. Goosebumps prickled his skin as they reached his favorite part. Playing together in harmony, their prolonged notes sang out in a gentle vibrato that gave way to a series of arpeggios, a passage that had given them difficulty at first but now flowed forth perfectly.

In all his years of playing flute Sorey had never been more proud of himself. Ever since last year's debacle he'd waited for a second chance to perform a song like this, together with Mikleo. They had come such a long way. All their hard work paid off as applause filled his ears, both him and Mikleo bowing to the audience before taking their exit.

Once outside in the hallway Sorey let out a breath and leaned back against the wall. Rose and Alisha hurried to their side with words of congratulations, everything a blur of excitement. As much as he wanted to wrap Mikleo in a hug, his cello proved to be too big an obstacle at the time, and so they wandered back to the gymnasium to put away their instruments. Once all had been stowed away for the afternoon Sorey drew his arms around Mikleo and held tight. His cheek pressed against his hair, soft and tickling his skin.

“You did well,” Mikleo spoke.

Sorey pulled away but kept hands planted firmly on his shoulders. “Think we got a one?”

“Frankly, I'd be surprised if we didn't.”

As it took the judges some time to update all the results, they would have to check back later for anything. He realized then that Rose and Alisha were nowhere to be seen—where, and how, had they slipped away? He found Rose rushing into the gym with Alisha right on her heels, grinning from ear to ear as she caught her breath.

“Is... everything okay?” Sorey asked.

“She got a one!” Rose breathed. “See, Alisha, I told you everything would be fine.”

"For real?”

Alisha nodded at the rhetorical question, laughing as Rose pulled her into a hug. “Atta girl. Tell that to Maltran.”

“We knew you had it in you,” Mikleo added. “Congrats.”

“This is all better than I could have hoped for,” Alisha said. “I couldn't have done it without you all.”

In celebration they took a break for food, Rose's treat at her insistence. Though some lingering anxiety tingled through Sorey at not knowing their own results, he kept his mind in the present, in the memories he created and would hold close to his heart. For the following hour they scouted for the updated results like a recon mission, empty handed each time. But they wouldn't give up. As Mikleo started off to check for the umpteenth time, Sorey caught up with him and navigated the halls together.

“Maybe this time,” Sorey mused.

“It's been two hours. You'd think it would be up by now.”

“Yeah... it took longer for Alisha's, though.” Or maybe it had updated earlier, and they simply hadn't thought to check then.

They reached the room and found a paper taped to the wall, the results penciled in on each line. Sorey's eyes roved to the bottom and his heart skipped a beat; there, written in clean cursive, both of their names. Mikleo's hand flew out to grab his arm, reaching the end of the line just before he had.

Division one.

Mikleo gazed his way with a smile that lit up his face, brighter than he'd ever seen before. Sorey could feel his own cheeks hurt from grinning. Caught up in the moment, he planted a kiss on Mikleo's lips, glad he had come along after all. A laugh tickled his skin and Sorey parted to press their foreheads together.

“We did it.”


End file.
